


Spock tried, too

by TFALokiwriter



Series: The trying of Spones [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Feels, Ghost!Jim, Hospital, Humor, M/M, No matter what I do there is going to be McKirk and I have no idea why that happens, Reunion, Sad, Spones is endgame, Starship - Freeform, Vulcan, Waiting, hella long, takes place post character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-09-09 02:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 51,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8872774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFALokiwriter/pseuds/TFALokiwriter
Summary: McCoy be damned to seeing a familiar Vulcan three years later after the death of his close colleague Captain Kirk. And it'll be a cold day in hell that he let Spock complete Kolinahr. Nope. No sirry. Not even if he has to pull some strings to turn the Vulcan's star fleet commission back on. And Spock has to repay the favor.





	1. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this post on tumblr and written because of it. I only decided to make a short story out of it because of writing the first chapter as a drabble and then looking at it thinking 'that would make a great story' and decided to edit it and add on to it--> http://pywren.tumblr.com/post/154561770547/lokirogers-greatest-injustice-from-sttmp-is-that

Spock’s hair had grown long from the last time McCoy had seen him. They were sitting alongside each other in the waiting room that had Vulcans mostly populating it. They were in a Vulcanian hospital. The waiting patients ranged in age physically. They all appeared in be in their mid-twenties. Any Vulcan here over one hundred could fool humans that they were in fact younger. Some of the Vulcans were black, some of them had lighter shade of black skin, and some were white. It wasn't surprising for a planet that lived under the sun. The temperature was comfortable to most Vulcans, but poor McCoy was in a short sleeved gray jacket with a high collar. He had on knee length pants. He wore a madelion around his neck. Spock’s eyebrows were bushy. He did not wear eyeliner.

“Doctor?” Spock said, looking at the human with a raised eyebrow.

McCoy appeared to be concerned.

“Spock?” McCoy said. “You almost don’t look like you.”

“What brings you here, Doctor?” Spock inquired.

McCoy folded his legs taking out the Vulcan magazine from off the table

“I am just here for some Vulcan business,” McCoy said. “Medical business.” He raised a brow back at the Vulcan flipping through the magazine. “I am about to ask you that same question but I know I shouldn’t bother with that. Because, as you said, once: _Highly illogical to ask someone who is in the mist of Vulcanian business.”_

Spock was covering his wrist.

“That is not what I said.” Spock said. “You grew a beard,doctor.”

“You grew your hair out.” McCoy was looking at the image on the page.

“I am in the middle of Kolinahr–” Spock started but was cut off by McCoy.

“Purging?” McCoy  looked at him, startled, then his face softened.  “Emotions finally overwhelmed you. And here you are runnin’ away from them. Just like … Oh well, that is the past.”

“Negative.” Spock said.

“Spock,if I were your doctor, I would be concerned and have your health checked but I am T’Pring’s temporary physican,” McCoy looked over toward the Vulcan. “Christine and Nyota were against it because of irrational fear of somethin’ happenin’ to her.” _  
_

Spock tilted his head.

“Did you not retire?”  Spock asked.

“Of course,  I did.” McCoy said. Spock straightened his head.

“You are aware that retirement is not a revolving door.” Spock said.

“To Jim, it is.” McCoy’s face faltered. “Or could have been.” His voice grew smaller. “You haven’t called since . . . since. . since that planet was destroyed. Jim and a entire paradise. Three months we could have found him.” He glanced over toward Spock. “How lon’ has it been since we last had a civil conversation?”

“Three years, four months,three weeks, three hours, and forty-eight minutes.” Spock replied.

McCoy grew a small smile.

“Punctual as ever, Mister Spock.” McCoy said.

“What is T’Pring’s condition?” Spock inquired.

“Classified.” McCoy said.

Spock raised the eyebrow.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it. Not even to a old colleage.”  His eyes drifted over toward the Vulcan, “You should stop blamin’ yourself for Jim’s death. Because you know, like Scotty said, he is not gone lon’ as we remember him.” His eyes returned to the magazine, “Good to know you are still alive. That is a relief.” He had a sad sigh. “You know, Jim would have wanted you to finish the mission.”

“Captain Decker is reportedly doing excellent.” Spock said.

“You didn’t hear of the romance sparking between with his navigator. Star Fleet is busy working out rules for that now because of it.” He glanced over toward the Vulcan. “Some of the crew members complained about the captain being too open with the  Deltan. I have been runnin’ around helpin’ people. Been helpin’ with my grief.”

“That was three years ago.” Spock said.

“You didn’t grieve, didn’t you?” McCoy lowered the magazine. “You still think he’s alive.”

“That is because he is.” Spock said.

“I feel sorry for you,” McCoy said, with a sigh as he leaned back into the chair and returned his attention to the page. “And here I thought love wasn’t in your book.”

Spock turned his attention away from the older man. Spock considered his luck with the doctor not prying into why he was here. He hadn’t bothered to continue the conversation. The man’s slim, female like waist was still the way it was before. His hair had only gotten grayer. There were a few more lines on his face than the ones Spock had seen three years ago. McCoy’s eyebrows reminded Spock of the horns from a bull only thinner and smaller. Not long ago had they been part of frowns in debates with the Vulcan. Spock resumed writing on the pad with his injured hand.

The door slid open.

“Doctor McCoy?” Came a Vulcan female. McCoy looked up from the magazine.  “Please come. You are needed.”

McCoy stood up then placed the magazine to the counter. But before he left, he looked toward Spock and attempted to give the ta’al sign much as it was painful for him. He moved his fingers into the correct position then, and added, with a light hearted comment. “At least I tried.” McCoy left the room.

Spock tried, too.

 


	2. Reminder

T'Pring was holding a little brown baby with pointy ears in her arms. The baby was swaddled up. Nyota was alongside the woman in a chair holding a little white baby in her arms that was swaddled up. Christine was sitting alongside Nyota cooing at the resting newborn. The white baby had pointy ears. T'Pring's black hair was curled on her shoulder let loose. Her hair bangs were wet. She was in a blue medical outfit that vanished under the beige blanket. T'Pring had eyeliner that looked fine on her not only the make up. Christine and Nyota shared a long, glance with one another.

"We should name this little girl Lynn." Nyota finally said. "Lynn."

"But she is half Vulcan." Christine said.

"She can get the 'T' added when she is betrothed at the age of seven, honey." Nyota said. "These little girls are going to be tight as thieves." She rubbed gently along the face of the resting baby. "Some Vulcans prefer to do the betrothing at a early age. Pree wanted otherwise."

"Lynn is a southern name." T'Pring said.

"Why yes it is," Nyota said. "These were high risks deliveries. The man who helped us should get a child named after him."

"That is acceptable." T'Pring said.

"What about the other twin?" Christine asked.

"I like to say . . . Paang." T'Pring said, looking down upon the shut eye baby. "Soren will be pleased to see his granddaughter."

"T'Leri would have been overjoyed," Nyota said. "I really think she would have loved to see the newborns."

"Shame we never got to meet her." Christine said. "Died before she can meet us."

"T'Leri would have been proud of our accomplishment," T'Pring said. "Ashayam."

"Your accomplishment, you mean," Christine said. "You went with Doctor McCoy through The Gaurdian of Forever just so you can get impregnated by a male version of our dear Nyota named Nnaid Uearo."

"Nnamdi Uhuro." T'Pring corrected Christine.

"And used USS Republic to get there through bending a few rules here and there." Nyota said. "If I was not overjoyed with these little bundles . . . .  you would have lost your life thanks to the very risky stunt you pulled."

"I am confident my decision is sound." T'Pring said.

"You nearly died during delivery," Christine said. "We love you, but we didn't want you to go."

"I understand," T'Pring said. "But there is no need to worry as we have two children to take care of."

"Just don't do that to us again." Nyota said.

"I have to agree," Christine said. "You worried the hell out of us."

"That was not my intention," T'Pring said. "And I will not do it again."

"Good," Nyota said. "Because we are going to need to figure out how to organize family time during my shore leaves." The three  women shared glances with one another. "I don't want to miss out on our little baby growing up."

"I will record the moments that you are not there for and send them to you." Christine said.

"Oh baby." Nyota said. "I am the luckiest woman in the galaxy."

The sliding door opened to let in McCoy. His baby blue eyes stood out from his vacation mode at first glance. Yet he still had the beard including the necklace. He wore a easy going smile on his face rubbing his hands together approaching the new found interracial family. He was pleased how things gone down, apparently. One could tell he was not a doctor or in service because of the lack of a formal, beardless appearance. So it was problematic that he was being a temporary doctor when he didn't look like it. To the women, however, he was a full time doctor wherever he went.

"How are the twins?"

"Satisfactory." T'Pring said.

"They haven't opened their eyes, yet." Christine said.

"Their eyes are goin' to be blue until their vision clears up," McCoy said, "Then you will see who inherited whose eyes." He came over toward the little brown baby in T'Pring's arms. "I, for one, can tell this little one has your eyebrows, Nyota." He looked back up. "Even if it was a different version of yourself. This little girl is goin' to look like one of her mothers."

"She has heard the voice of her godfather off and on for the past nine months." Nyota said.

"Why wouldn't she not hear the voice of the person who has been constantly monitoring your pregnancy through the healers on Vulcan--" McCoy stopped, raising his brows, then pointed to his chest. "Me?" He was caught off guard. "A godfather?"  Christine snaked her arm around Nyota's shoulder as the woman nodded. "I am honored."

"We decided that during labor." Nyota said.

"For two days?" McCoy asked.

"We could not decide," Nyota said. "There were many people  we could choose over."

"I am sorry that you couldn't be there for the delivery, Nyota."  McCoy apologized.

"I understood the consequence as soon as she went in."  Nyota said. "Quantum mechanics gives me a headache."

"It did me one too," McCoy said. "Understandin' it all." He glanced over toward T'Pring. "As much as I enjoyed meetin' my female counterpart Lea Horatia McCoy and seein' Jim again in the form of a woman. . ." McCoy's mind briefly drifted off at the memory of Jane Tiberia Kirk. The doctor then softly finished. "It was painful."

"As I told my wives, I do not intend." T'Pring said

McCoy smiled as he bounced with his hands locked behind his back.

"Never before have I been pleased by hearing a Vulcan say no." McCoy said.

The two women laughed.

"Oh Doctor." Christine said.

" _Bones._ " Praang heard a newcomers voice. Praang shifted in the wrapping. " _Bones!_ " No one seemed to be paying attention nor be alarmed. The tone of voice sounded intimate, and personal. Vulcan's had excellent hearing. Many could attest to that including humans when it came to overhearing matters that did not relate to the Vulcan in general. Even McCoy would agree to that comment. " _What happened to you_?"

"Do you wish to hold the child, Doctor McCoy?" T'Pring inquired.

"I would be honored to." McCoy said. T'Pring gently handed the little one into the doctor's arms. "Coochie cooh coochie cue." Praang's nose wiggled and frowned then yawned. "Aww, you are so cute." He looked toward T'Pring. "What is their names?"

"Praang and Lynn." Christine said. "The one you are holding is Praang."

"A fittin' name." McCoy said.

"Indeed." T'Pring said.

"This one is Lynn," Nyota said. "Lynn Horatia Uhura."

Praang slowly opened her eyes. McCoy gasped, struck by the pretty eyes looking back. He was taken breathless at first then made a sound that Spock, long ago, considered a illogical noise. Too bad Mister Spock still didn't understand how humans dealt with babies. Spock, at one point had been a baby, it was a pity that the former first officer wasn't raised like a human to know why they made these illogical noises. He smiled, openly, at the little one and said, "Whose the cutest elf in the room. Yes, yes, you are." Praang stared at McCoy's chin with dark vision.

"She is so small," Christine said. "Our little baby is--is she cross eyed?"

"Her secondary eye lid is up." McCoy said. "And she will get used to the light."

"Affirmative." T'Pring siad.

"Did you know who I saw today?" McCoy asked. The women raised their eyebrows. "Mister Spock." T'Pring lowered her eyebrow. "It was quite off to see him in a waitin' room and he did not look like himself. Looked like one of the trainee Kolinahr students I saw awhile back."

"Mister Spock is here?" Christine said, startled. "I have been here for a year and we barely seen him."

"So he did resign from Star Fleet after all." Nyota said, sadly.

"Perhaps not after all." McCoy said.  "I had a session with T'Pau today regarding my annual mind check up." He looked down toward the resting Vulcan. "Some mind meld problems still haven't gone away. Not life threatening. And I decided after the meeting to start a rescue operation. Rescue mission: Deter Spock from becomin' a zombie."

"There is no historical significance of humans developing mind meld problems since a hundred years ago." T'Pring said. "Not unless it was a forced mind meld done without the consent of another."

"Mister Spock. . ." Nyota said. "No, he can't be--"

"It wasn't Mister Spock." McCoy interrupted. "It was another version of him. The mirror version."

There was looks of concern in the room for the doctor.

Jim had high hopes for the Mirror Spock. McCoy, on the other had, had different thoughts about it. Things wouldn't change in the mirror verse. As Jim had said, it would take two hundred years for the Terran Empire to collapse. Perhaps, just perhaps, Star Fleet would fall in the same length of time and be replaced by a empire. That is the only way change could occur. If changed occurred with the collapse of Terran Empire and Star Fleet remained, the Terran Empire would be a alternate universe not a parallel one. McCoy had not forgotten the words from the Mirror Spock: "Our minds are merging, Doctor. Our minds are one. I feel what you feel. I know what you know." It was rare that he woke up because of a nightmare about that damn green blooded goatee counterpart in the middle of the night. God knows how terrifying the chant was when interrogating some one in the mirror universe on a average day. It may be a mundane chant but terrified the life out of the doctor. But there were minor problems that developed because of the mind meld. Feeling terrified to walk alone in the hall of a starship. Feeling like someone was out to get him. And in general, like someone in a Terran Empire.

"If Spock is the way you described him, you should go ahead and do it." Christine said.

"It is not  comforting that there is a version of Spock does force mind melds." Nyota said.

"He's in another universe, Nyota," McCoy said. "Not like he is walking among us."

"When do you start the rescue operation?" T'Pring inquired.

"Well,"  McCoy said, sitting down into a chair beside the biobed. "I rather start it when I am as far away as possible from Vulcan to start the operation."

"What kind of plan requires you being away?" Christine asked, appearing to be concerned.

"The one you wouldn't want to know," McCoy said. "Sometimes, as I learned,you have to cheat to start thin's goin' and find a third way out of a walkin' disaster." The women didn't seem to be having it. "No, I mean what I said, you would not like it a bit."

"If that is what you want." Christine said.

"Say," McCoy drawled. "How are you dealin' with the former captain's discharge?"

"Relived, actually." Nyota said. "Not to be bitter about it but it was getting over the top."

"Dear, her eyes have opened." Christine said.

Lynn's brown eyes were staring in the direction of Nyota's chin. The colors were fuzzy and some of the shapes were blending together. From a infant's perspective, color was not solid but fuzzy. It wasn't a thing. What lines there were were highly zig-zagged. Nyota's surrounding colors were dulled by Christine blocking the sunlight from landing squarely in the newborns eyes. She could hear voices. She could hear the voice of a younger man with pauses in his speech. She wanted to grab where the source was coming from and touch it, get to know this thing, and above all be able to see it. She experienced a wave of comfort in the family bond. The voices were clear as day and crystal clear. She closed her eyes, listening to their voices.

" _Hello, little Lynn_ ," Came the man's voice. " _The name is Jim, Jim Kirk_."

What they didn't know was that there was a ghost in the room. The room suddenly became cold for the humans in the room. McCoy could feel chills travel down his skin. But the presence there in the room was friendly but it was not violent in the slightest. Lynn felt a hand stroke the side of her cheek. A cold finger along her cheek, gently. Being wrapped up in warm, fabric was soothing. It reminded her of the dark place. It was a better location that was quiet. She got to jump many times. Lynn could kick as many times as she wanted but she couldn't right now. But where she was shared one comforting part of the place she loved: warmth. McCoy handed Praang back to T'Pring.

"Brr," McCoy said. "Is it supposed to be cold this late?"

"I do not believe so, Doctor." T'Pring said. "If you need any help, you can call."

"I got the help of Spock's parents." McCoy said. "If there is somethin' you can do, I will call you girls in a heartbeat."

"This issue must be important to them if they are willing to help you." Nyota said.

McCoy nodded.

_McCoy remembered the session he had with T'Pau. He remembered the Vulcan quite fondly. She was the one who had helped certain Star Fleet captains, including Captain Tucker and his bondmate T'Pol. These days, the counple were a elderly pair that were short and were in sync with another when they walked. They had gone wrinkly and gray. McCoy had met Phlox during a mission previously to his first assignment on a starship. The man was quite interesting. And quirky himself using little, small aliens to save his patients. This man had helped pioneered star fleet before him. The man was quite legendary. McCoy had a sneaking suspicion that Phlox had been the admiral who assigned him to the Enterprise. It was all too convenient to be assigned to the USS Enterprise in the year 2266. Unlike Spock, he saw the five year mission through while under the command of Captain Sulu._

_T'Pau took her hand back from the side of the man's face._

_"Thee's link has evolved." T'Pau said._

_McCoy looked at her, rather confused._

_"What link?" McCoy asked._

_T'Pau raised an eyebrow._

_"The bond." T'Pau said._

_McCoy looked at her in bewilderment, then wonderment, realization, and horror._

_"The--the--the---the bond?" McCoy asked._

_"Affirmative, doctor." T'Pau said, looking at McCoy rather oddly._

_"With whom?" McCoy said._

_"You do not know." T'Pau said._

_"No, but under no mistake am I determined on not knowing." McCoy said._

_"S'Chn T'Gai Spock of Vulcan." T'Pau said. "The bond has been keeping Mister Spock alive. It is a miracle that it has not broken down into a death bond due to the loss of his T'hy'la." She straightened her head. "How long have you been an item with him?" McCoy was staring back at her, horrified, as though he finally understood something with wide eyes. "Doctor?"_

_McCoy shook his head._

_"Sorry," McCoy said. "He thinks Jim is alive. . . I saw him in a Vulcan hospital." He cleared his throat. "I understand why now." He was trembling. He thought back to when Jim asked for his help when Spock's Pon Far remerged with a vengeance.  Doctor M'Benga was on duty for the next three days. "Could a full fledged marriage bond be consummated in the process of Pon Farr?"_

_"Affirmative." T'Pau said._

_"So. . . The only reason why he came here is because of my feelin's regarding Jim's death." McCoy felt a tear come down. Spock had been under the emotions of two individuals. His own and McCoy's. McCoy was well aware of the bond because of Jim being his drinking buddy and talking about how empty the bond felt when Spock briefly did not exist. Jim characterized it as a living, organic plant like entity. Message could be sent to parts of the tree, emotions could be felt from both, and pain could be experienced on both ends. The tree itself connected the two's minds together._

_Jim, during the five year mission, wrote a historical alternate universe epic in his spare time._

_Jim was a man who paid attention to the details._

_"That is not possible." T'Pau said. McCoy experienced guilt._

_"I was somewhere else for a while." McCoy said. "I came here **drunk**. You remember that, surely."_

_"Of course, you were not well." T'Pau said. "Your mental injuries were more severe than they were now."_

_"I was a mess. And I have to fix--" McCoy stopped, looking at her,as his eyes brightened up and a smile grew on his face. His tears had stopped.  "I can fix it." He recomposed himself in front of the healer. "About your advice regardin' goin' to the source of my misery and fixin' it with them . . . What kind of chances can you give me that I will come back sane?_ "

* * *

_It felt like a hundred years ago to Spock when it had been three years ago that James T. Kirk 'died' in the line of duty. But it felt like he never left. That he wasn't gone. The bond was still thriving. He could still remember how the event occurred. McCoy was tailing after him. The obelisk had been printed with language by a long forgotten civilization known as the passengers. The story that Spock had managed to dig up made complete sense. It was logical. Did they expect to ever met their own creations? Possibly. The passengers were the ones who seeded the galaxy, and most importantly, his civilization. They were walking along the well traveled path heading toward a village. It could be defined as a village when it was a tribe of different cultures put together. There could be other villages like this dotting the planet that the Enterprise hadn't been able to find with the forest life. Machinery did have a thing of malfunctioning._

_"Oh look, there is Jim." McCoy said._

_Spock raised his eyebrow._

_"Why is the captain flirting with a inhabitant?" Spock said._

_"It seems that Jim must have lost his memory," McCoy said, as they resumed their path. "Some how due to that obelisk."_

_"A obelisk cannot be responsible for his three month disappearance." Spock said._

_"It is responsible for you becoming increasingly thin and disheveled." McCoy said._

_"I am not disheveled." Spock said._

_"Jim is goin' to love this," McCoy said. "Let's get our friend back."_

_McCoy went forward._

_"Jim!" McCoy called. "Jim!" He cupped his hands around his mouth. "You have been worrying the hell out of us!"_

_"Captain?" Spock called, going past the doctor. "Captain!"_

_Spock sent a emotion of confusion in the bond toward Jim. Jim looked in the direction of the oncoming men with a smile on his face. McCoy looked in the direction of the sky to see the asteroid hurling in the direction of the planet. They didn't have time. McCoy turned his attention toward Spock. Jim was sitting alongside the woman who had black hair and was dressed oddly in a way reminding McCoy of the cartoon version of the woman Pocahontas. McCoy yanked out his communicator making a painful decision. It was the only logical decision to save their lives. Jim would understand. He had to. It was something he would have done if it was Spock and Jim too far away from the doctor who lacked his communicator.  The Vulcan was getting closer and closer to the human. Jim picked up a spear. Spock wasn't paying attention to that._

_The decision was made._

_McCoy flipped the communicator out then rushed after the  Vulcan._

_"MCCOY TO ENTERPRISE, TWO TO BEAM UP!" McCoy shouted into the communicator._

_"Aye aye, Doctor McCoy." Scotty's voice came over the communicator. "Ye need to be still."_

_"SPOOOOCK!" McCoy closed the communicator._

_The spear was thrown._

_McCoy tackled Spock to the ground in full force. This was the first officer, and his duty was to ensure his survival as a doctor. McCoy hadn't really done this before but toppling him down was rather easy to do. Just run, and then leap knocking him to the ground. McCoy saw the spear sticking out from the Vulcan's shoulder. He could see the green blood trailing down the edge. Apparently, the bond had been closed off from the Vulcan for three months. Nothing had come from Jim's end of the bond. They had all ready lost Jim. **Jim**. McCoy watched his friend disappear before his eyes. The ground be struck. The ominous tremble. The mushroom like cloud making it's way through the trees. Jim's hands wrapped around the woman. It was like a different man was across from Spock. Spock called out, Jim, through their bond only to be met with his echo. Spock had a emotionless mask on his face to cover the shell shocked emotions he was feeling. In a blue haze with a gentle melody they reappeared on the transporter padd. McCoy came to the Vulcan's side trembling with one hand on the edge of the transporter. Spock tried, too. To express emotions but he couldn't.  Because Jim  Kirk wasn't dead according to the bond. Spock was met with heavy sorrow and regret from the bond. _

_"Doctor!" Christine arrived with Doctor M'Benga by her side. "Mister Spock!"_

_"Get to him first." McCoy said. "I am fine." He looked up toward Scotty. "We lost the Captain, Scotty."_

_Scotty's face faltered in a way that Spock had not seen before._

_"Jim."  Came a single, sorrowful word as the nearby technician was frozen unable to move._

_Christine and M;'Benga helped the Vulcan onto the gurney._

_"Scotty, what happened?" McCoy asked, putting on a mask of his own that was serious and not as compromised as Spock was._

_"I dinnae." Scotty said. "It  went faster as soon as ye were on the surface."_

_**Jim** , Spock called, **Taluhk nash-veh k'du.**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited the vulcan phrase at the end. 
> 
> Taluhk nash-veh k'du= I cherish thee. 
> 
> k'dular is the plural version.


	3. Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Britlv requires credit for helping me with T'Pring's name. http://britlv.tumblr.com/

It was quite odd, being dead and all. Distressing for someone who had no idea how to deal with it. Jim was passing through people. He was transparent to them. Non existent to them. The first thing he had seen was the quarters of his bond mate S'Chn T'Gai Spock. At least he assumed so. He saw belongings that not many Vulcan's would have. There was pieces of a shattered golden vase in a closed box with bits of dried green blood. He saw there was a holo-picture on the wall of the command crew. He saw there were trinkets of their exploits together strewn about the small rounded room with a equal circular window. He saw a closed closet across from the bed. There was a laundry laundry hamper alongside the bed that was empty. He felt himself be tugged. He had a path to follow which was oddly familiar to him. It was familiar in a way that he knew where to go.

"Why am I here?" Jim asked himself. "Why is Spock here?"

He went through the closed door where he fell abruptly to the floor.

"What just happened?" Jim got up, then expecting for a solid surface he held his hand against the frame only to see his hand slip on through. "What the--!" He yanked his hand back. "I am. . ." Jim turned around, dramatically, horror. "I am dead." He couldn't feel Spock through the bond. The bond was cut, clean. Jim's eyes widened as it started to occur to him this problem. He remembered the last few seconds of his life.  The image of Sock on the grass with McCoy by his side. A spear pointing from the shoulder blade of the captain.  A tinge of guilt swept over him. He hurt Spock, accidentally, under amnesia. "Spock."

How long had he been dead?

Jim walked down the hall seeing various doors spaced from one another. He recognized some of the decorations as Vulcanian in design. He went through the final door into the humid temperature of Vulcan. He looked down toward his hands to see he was in the green wrap around shirt. Which explained why he was comfortable. He saw the mountain ranges. He strode down the steps. He saw that were was mostly dirt, the Vulcan equivalent of cactus's, and large dark gray scorpion like bugs resembling a certain bug insect from the world of Pokemon without the wings. They were in the distance. But there was one in particular that was close by. It resembled Vibrava except it walked on its hind legs. He saw there were paths that split off to in the country Vulcan houses in the distance. He remembered Vulcan quite well on his brief visit. The hot sand against his skin. Rubbing against Spock's leg. Their legs entangled together across from the wedding procession across from them.

Why was Spock on Vulcan?

He saw signs alongside the path. He took a stop and peered at them, squinting his eyes, struggling to understand them. There were few words he understood. Three letters stood out: Gor. The letters stood out to Jim. Spock and Jim had taken time to plan their shore leave when the Enterprise was being refit. Spock had explained to Jim the various other cities on Vulcan that they could go to. Gor sounded rather interesting to Jim so Spock took half an hour to explain how inappropriate Gor was. He droned on about logic, isolation, and the history regarding it. The rich, deep gorgeous voice kept Jim on the edge of his seat. It became clear at the end of the story what the location was. And why it was inappropriate. It was not at all romantic to couples. He didn't feel hot. He didn't feel exhausted but what he did feel was annoyed. Why did he appear on Vulcan? Why was Spock on Vulcan? Spock would never go there. Not unless he was actually driven to it under immense circumstance. Which could be emotionally. Would grief drive Spock to Gor? Jim resumed path while on his train of thought pondering if Spock was capable of doing so. The idea of Spock forsakening emotion was horrifying.

Jim walked his way into the city. He passed by several Vulcans. One of them was riding a large Sehlat that was fat and furry. There were Vulcan motorcycles parked alongside some buildings left on park mode. Jim looked up to see a few Dirt Flyers flying through out the city in the sky. ShiKahr was a large city. Vast and decorated with unique apartments throughout through out the city varying in design. Not all the Vulcan houses were the same theme. There was was a smaller city up ahead called Vulcana Regar that held the Vulcan Katra Ark facility. He saw there were Vulcan children in small groups sharing conversation. Jim felt as though he was being ushered forward into a direction. He noticed Vulcans heading up the street. He noticed a familiar figure exiting a entrance way. Jim came closer to the figure. He saw the long,black jaw length hair. The unkept bangs. The shaggy eyebrows. The lack of the familiar blue eyeliner. He was in a black long robe with light brown dirt covered chest plate. It was clearly distressing to see him in that outfit. Jim was more accustomed to see him in bright clothes. When Spock was meditating, he would be in his black meditation robe. Jim fondly remembered attempting to meditate alongside the Vulcan.

"Spock!" Jim called, running after the Vulcan. "Spock!"

Spock looked both ways.

"Spock . . . " Jim said. He was beside the Vulcan placing one hand on Spock's shoulder.

A Desert Flyer parked in front of the Vulcan.

"I cannot be that far." Jim looked over to see that he was several blocks down the city. All he could see from afar was moving figures and the shapes of Vulcans walking about. He could not see where the city ended. Just how long had he been walking? It felt as though it had been thirty-five minutes. "This is  . . ." He turned in the direction of Spock who was ducking into the vehicle. "Why am I here?" He watched Spock vanish into the light blue space craft. He looked back in the direction of the doors feeling drawn and confused. "This is interesting."

Jim ducked half way in to see Vulcans in the waiting room with stoic masks on their faces. It wasn't noisy compared to the 21st century. There was a Surak historical program being aired on the curved large screen in the middle of the room. Jim came completely into the building. He saw several of the chairs were occupied. He walked into the waiting room. He saw there was three Vulcan females reading comic books in their seats with communicator devices sticking out of their right ears. He waved his hand in front of the youngest Vulcan who appeared to be seven years old. The Vulcan looked up with a flash of alarm on their face. There was a brief glimmer of hope that arose for Jim. If a child could see him then they can tell him what the stardate is. Being able to talk and being able to seen went hand in hand to speaking with a stranger. Some people tend to believe they are mad when they did not see the source of voices and often went to the doctor because of it for any existing problems that recently developed.

"You can see me?" Jim said.

"Father?" The child said, looking over toward the Vulcan with a long chin.

"Yes, my son?" The father said.

"And he can't hear me." Jim said.

"Did you wave my hand in front of my face?" The child said.

"So Vulcan children are capable of seeing ghosts at a early age like humans. Huh." Jim rubbed his chin. "That is interesting."

"High illogical to wave my hand in your line of view." The father said.

Jim felt the strong tug occurring. He turned toward the wide, huge doorway that lead into the other half of the building. The waiting room was massive big enough for approximately a thousand Vulcans or at least it seemed that way to Jim. He walked through the sliding double doors. He entered into a hall of silence. His boots echoed down the hall. The doors to several Vulcan's room were open letting them see the hall with a haunting pace. The turbo lift was not able to be used. He made his way up the emergency stairs. He heard his footsteps echo back. Being a captain required being capable of climbing anything, at least in Jim's perspective, and weathering out the external factors was a ease. He didn't feel tired climbing up the stairs. He went up five floors considering why he was going up there. He was being tugged up there. And he had no control over it. None what so ever. He came to the door labeled in Vulcanian numerical.

"Here I go again." Jim said.

Jim walked through the door. There was silence in the hall. His boots echoed as he walked down the hall. He experienced some form of familiarity. His pace quickened. So do the speed of the footsteps. A Vulcan healer came out of nearby room hearing the sound grow louder and louder. The Vulcan stopped raising an eyebrow  tilting his head with hands under his sleeves. Jim came to a stop seeing the Vulcan looking at his general direction. Jim was almost tempted to speak with the Vulcan as he started with, "Greetings, I am--" when suddenly the healer went through him. Jim stepped back with a gasp. He looked back in the direction of the walking Vulcan. Jim reminded himself, "You are a ghost." Jim continued his way. He came to a stop down the hall at the nearest door. He went through the door feeling like he fought his way through a barrier.

There was McCoy walking toward T'Pring rubbing his hands together. He had a smile on his face. McCoy suddenly looked older than the last time he had seen this man. Roughly a decade older. He wore a beard and a fancy outfit. Jim came over to the foot rest of the biobed feeling the world had become dizzy. He closed his eyes regaining his composure. Nothing was quite reasonable. Spock was out of Star Fleet. McCoy was on Vulcan with a beard. Nothing was quite right. Why did he have to stay on the planet surface? Admiring the beauty of the planet, sure, that was quite a realistic reason. He had been yearning to be on paradise. Being in space for so long came with it's pains and its tears of joy. Finding the love of his life. Sure, he did like to be on shore leave but he would like to share it with Spock. Spock refused to go on Shore Leave. So Jim, in the beginning, decided to gradually wean him to the idea of being on Shore Leave. Before Spock's revelation that they were T'hy'la.

"Bones." Jim finally said. "Bones!" Jim walked forward, placing a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "What happened to you?"

"Do you wish to hold the child, Doctor McCoy?" T'Pring inquired.

"I would be honored to." McCoy said. T'Pring gently handed the little one into the doctor's arms. "Coochie cooh coochie cue." Praang's nose wiggled and frowned then yawned. Jim took his hand off the man's shoulder feeling dismay. McCoy could not hear him, too. "Aww, you are so cute." He looked toward T'Pring. "What is their names?"

"Praang and Lynn." Christine said. "The one you are holding is Praang."

"A fittin' name." McCoy said.

"Indeed." T'Pring said.

"This one is Lynn," Nyota said. "Lynn Horatia Uhura."

"You are a godfather," Jim said, as a smile spread on his face. "You are a honorary godfather."

Jim walked over to the nearby chair then sat down. So there was good that came out of the change in his fate. The fault in his stars, so to speak,had gone to effect everyone. For the best and for the worse. The conversation went to imply that T'Pring had done something that none of the women were approving of. It also sounded life threatening. One that wouldn't Jim would approve of, either. Jim was dumbfounded when he heard McCoy had mind meld based problems. How could McCoy not tell him? He could always talk to him. Did he view it as a personal problem? McCoy was a man known to deal with personal issue in the background.

He was well aware Praang's full  Vulcan name would be  T'Kosa S'Vakh Praang. Kosa came from the god of war Khossa while Vakh (which could also be spelled Vach) in meant bold. Spock had taken the time to explain T'Pring's clan and it's history to Jim. It was rather compelling and bold let alone the part of betrothing their youngest daughter Pring to Spock at the age of seven. T'Pring's clan historically had rooting's in Surak's followers. Spock had taken the time during his youth to learn about her clan. The way Spock explained it to Jim had been over a game of chess in the rec room. They played 3-D chess to level up the difficulty in the game. Personally, Jim believed beating the Vulcan aroused Spock. He would deny agitation.

Jim stood up, then walked over to Nyota's little bundle.

"Hello, little Lynn," Jim said, looking over toward the newborn shadowing Nyota. "The name is Jim, Jim Kirk."

He tilted his head looking at the newborn.

"You would make a great officer." Jim said. "A expect no less from you in the future."

Lynn was a small Vulcanian hybrid and she looked damn cute.

"Brr," McCoy said. Jim looked up in alarm as he saw Praang was in  T'Pring's arms. "Is it supposed to be cold this late?"

"I do not believe so, Doctor." T'Pring said. "If you need any help, you can call."

"I got the help of Spock's parents." McCoy said. "If there is somethin' you can do, I will call you girls in a heartbeat."

"This issue must be important to them if they are willing to help you." Nyota said.

McCoy nodded.

"Sure," McCoy said. "Where is the temperature adjuster?"

"Vulcanian hospitals are built to let in heat from the outside in the winter periods of Vulcan when it is far from the sun," T'Pring said. "This room has no temperature adjuster unlike the ones you have in your medical facilities." Nyota and Christine were sharing a fond laugh. "And it is unusually cold in here."

"Bones!" Jim said, approaching the man. "It's me! I am making it!" He took the doctor by the shoulders. "I am here,I don't know why, and I was drawn here." He searched the eyes of the confused doctor. "Bones." McCoy went through the man making a comment about "It is not even winter yet." Jim turned int he direction of the older man. "If he can't see me. . . But they can experience perks of there being a ghost around. . ." Jim rubbed his chin then looked up. "Not the first time I have been invincible."

He cringed.

The last time he was invincible was being in a different level of time and speed. Everyone could not speak with him. When people moved it was hours later. He was briefly the consort of a queen, the Scalosians, and he only had sex with her to give what she wanted. The Scalosians had a dying gene pool or at least that is what he understood. He preferred the company of Spock, McCoy, Scotty,Pasha, Hikaru, Christine, and Nyota. His family. He could see that something was quite off about McCoy. He had scars along his forearms. Ones that had been quite healed fully and they appeared roughly three years old. McCoy was a doctor not the kind who let it heal naturally. He would use a thermal regenerator. There was nothing that Jim was aware of that could instigate injuries and McCoy refuse to repair it. It wasn't self inflicted but it appeared to be medical related. 

"Doctor," T'Pring said. "Did you hear a Scalosian came with Captain Kirk's grandchild?"

"Yes," McCoy said. "I did. Except with the blue eyes, the boys could have fooled me."

"Aw," Christine said. "I am sure Jim would have been overjoyed."

"I am a grandfather?" Jim said. "Grandchildren?" So he did help. "Me?. . ."

It made Jim feel good inside.

"Shame they never got to meet Spock," McCoy said. "I would have given anything for Arnold and James to greet him at the same time." He had a laugh to himself. "Perhaps it is for the best that he was not there to see them. He would have thought one of them was Jim, just like I did, easily fooled me."

"Didn't they go into Star Fleet?" Nyota asked.

"Yes," McCoy said. "They are goin' under the medical corps."

"I did not expect that." Nyota said.

"Me too," McCoy said. "They send me holo-vids about their progress."

"Have you seen their progress?" Christine asked.

"We miss each other more often than you think," McCoy said. "They take care of the mass problems."

"Aww, you watch over them." Christine said.

"Who would?" McCoy asked. "They are related to someone who got in trouble ninty-eight percent of the time."

"He had a knack for standing up for what was right." Christine said. "Remember that one mission I went down to a planet with you and the commander? The planet that radiated auras off them."

"I remember," McCoy said. "Jim was the brightest."

"That was you, Bones," Jim said. "And Spock."

He remembered how bright the two men were in his eyes. How not as bright the security officers were and were slowly killed off. Jim's hand went into the hand of the doctor and carefully squeezed his hand. McCoy felt his hand grow cold. It felt as though  a hand was squeezing his hand which should not be the case. He was adoring the little one. McCoy looked over in the direction of the Vulcan woman of color. T'Pring roughly looked like the equivalent of a  Vulcan from South America. Despite there being no eyeliner, she appeared to be majestic and very pretty.

"She has your face." McCoy said.

"Bones." Jim said. "I never got to say goodbye. . . I'm sorry about that. Maybe I will see you in the next hundred years, hopefully, face to face." He smiled, softly. "I hope so. Because you should live a long and loving life doing what you do best." Jim felt a hard tug as he let go of the man's hand. Jim's hand, instead, traced along McCoy's rear then he took his hand off then went off in the direction he came in. Jim almost fell to his feet still not used to it. He didn't get a bruise from it. He got none of it as inside the McCoy stiffened and grew tense with alarm.

"MY GOD," McCoy yelped, with a bounce that apparently made him turn around.  "What the hell was that?"

Lynn started to wail. The door opened before the doctor who was looking around in alarm and surprise. Someone touched his ass. And it wasn't pleasent. He heard the wails of the twins joining at once and then were was more wailing. McCoy looked both ways then turned his head in the direction that Jim was going with his hands locked behind his back. McCoy started to feel uneasy seeing a familiar yellow a green shirt with matching black pants walking away with Star Fleet regulated boots. There was foot steps walking away from the doctor. McCoy started to go after him.

"Jim?" McCoy's pace quickened. He felt his heart beat faster. Spock was right. The Vulcan was damn right and McCoy was wrong. He had to inform Spock and apologize for how he acted. How could he survived such a catastrophic event? Jim was alive, that was important now, and let the mental barriers down experiencing pure joy. He let it flow through the bond to Spock. Happiness. "JIM!" McCoy cried out in sheer joy, his hand out reached, tears coming from the corner of his eyes. He saw the figure turn toward his direction with a sad, sorrowful smile. The hazel eyes were kind and compassionate. He was, in fact, wearing the green wraparound tunic. Not the golden uniform that was often too tight to the weight he gained on the third year of the five year mission. He had a short stature compared to McCoy. McCoy fell through him landing on the floor on his knees and hands. McCoy's eyes widened as he looked over his shoulder to see that no one was there. Jim turned around resuming the path he was making not seen by the weeping doctor. McCoy raised the mental shield back up. Christine placed a hand on the retired doctor's shoulder, gently.

"It is all right," Christine said. "There were times I thought I saw him in Sick Bay."

"I can't believe he is gone." McCoy said.

"Me too, Doctor," Christine said, kneeled by his side. "Me too."

The scene transitioned over to show Spock in the Dust Flyer. In front was a black Vulcanian woman with a unique curly hair style. She had gentle blue eyes and had tattoos that were apparent  on her skin that was left exposed by her attire. She had trimmed gorgeous slanted eyebrows and pretty eyeliner. Spock experienced joy, utter joy, coming from a unknown source. It was a brief emotion that alarmed the Vulcan. He searched for the source only to find where it was coming from was a large wall. Spock raised his eyebrow. _Fascinating_ , Spock contemplated, _I am experiencing emotions through a non-existent bond_. Spock looked out the window leaned against the frame. He felt a cold breeze enter the room. He looked over to see nothing there then returned his attention.

Jim was sitting along Spock's side and he couldn't be seen.

* * *

Our scene panned over into the resident of the Grayson household. McCoy appeared as though he had recently shaved. Which McCoy done in fact. He was in a short sleeved white buttoned up shirt and black pants that ended above the ankles. McCoy's fingers were wrapped around  a tea cup. Amanda was humming to herself from afar preparing hot chocolate. Sarek was in his Vulcan attire that wasn't consisting of a robe but a navy blue Vulcanian shirt with long sleeves. Seeing the older Vulcan man dressed up in long sleeves made McCoy feel like he was in a even more humid climate. It was mind-boggling how aging Vulcans were able to stand wearing layered clothing. It was a well known fact that they got colder as they aged. Young males were practically radiating heaters.

"What brings you here, Doctor McCoy?" Sarek inquired. "It has been  a long time since we crossed paths."

McCoy smiled.

"Yes, that it has," McCoy said, as the white cat was curled up on the Ambassador's lap. "About that. . . I came here for a favor. That favor you told me I could use any time after your son's incident."

Sarek raised his graying eyebrow.

"You came here for the favor?" Sarek inquired. "That is unlike you. You said, 'You do not owe me, Ambassador'."

McCoy nodded.

"That was before." McCoy said.

Sarek lowered his eyebrow.

"You are disturbed." Sarek said.

"It is about Spock." McCoy said. He took a sip of the sweet tea that Amanda made for him. He lowered it down onto the plate clearing his throat. When he thought of Spock, McCoy would picture the Vulcan in his blue uniform with a bowl hair cut and that perfect eyeshadow. He couldn't picture Spock as the Vulcan he had seen that evening. "I saw him."

Sarek took a sip of the vulcan green tea.

"He is doing well in his pursuit." Sarek said.

"He is not the Spock I knew," McCoy said. "It's like I was looking at a different man. He was . . . different. And it's my fault."

"The death of Captain Kirk was not your fault." Sarek said.

McCoy looked toward the Ambassador.

"I meant Spock's emotional well bein'," McCoy said, as Amanda sat down alongside her husband. "We may have, er, accidentally bonded a few years back."

"Doctor," Amanda said. "How do you accidentally bond with my son and how can he possibly not know about it?"

McCoy shrugged.

"I had my mental shields up all the time." McCoy said.  "That can explain it."

"If they were up. . ." Sarek started. "How often did you use the bond?"

"Well, hardly ever." McCoy said.

"Your emotional well being reflected what  Spock was experiencing." Sarek said. "It is part of the bond."

"Mirror image." McCoy said.

"Affirmative." Sarek said, as McCoy took a sip from the cup.

"I am familiar to that concept." McCoy said, lowering the cup to the plate. "Sarek, I need your help to reactivate Spock's commission." Sarek tilted his head raising a eyebrow at the human. "With your contacts, of course," He took another sip. "In the admiralcy."

"My husband," Amanda said. "Are you still friends with Admiral Archer?"

"Archer is at Risa for the moment enjoying his vacation." Sarek said

"It's a shame we have to call him on that well earned vacation with what remains of his crew. . ." Amanda said.

A fond smile grew on the doctor's face.

"I can make up for that one," McCoy said. "This one is on me."

Amanda looked toward  McCoy.

"You want to help our son get back on his feet?" Amanda asked.

"It is the ethnical, right thin'." McCoy said.

"I respect my son and his decisions," Sarek said. "However, Spock's actions are not what he would appreciate in the future."

"He is too. . ." Amanda said.

"Illogical." Sarek finished.

"Spock?" McCoy said. "Illogical?" He was baffled. "Are we talkin' about the same man?"

Sarek and Amanda nodded.

"He was given the offer to join the Vulcan Science Academy." Sarek said. "No one had ever, back then, done what he did."

'Spock turned them down." Amanda said. "A part of me feels that ugly jewish sweater might have been a part in it."

McCoy blinked, staring at Amanda, while startled.

"Spock wore ugly sweaters for Hanukkuh?" McCoy said.

"When he was under our household, it was quite logical when my wife's holiday arrived" Sarek said.

"Spock didn't just wear it for Hanukkuh." Amanda said. "Our little boy wouldn't admit it, but he loved it." She had a fond smile at the memory. It was so far away but memorable. Sarek did not seem to be disturbed by the mere collection of the memory. Vulcans can fool anyone on what they were feeling.  The fond smile faded. "You have to tell Spock about the bond."

"I will make sure to do that," McCoy said. "In fact, it is the end game part of the plan." He sighed. "And besides,whatever happens next due to the revelation about the bond can either go with dissolving it via Vulcan healer and going our separate ways or havin' to evaluate our relationship." He placed the cup onto the plate. "To save Spock from himself, it requires bein' illogical."

"Doctor," Amanda said. "Thank you for coming to us."

McCoy took a sip from the tea then had a smile.

"Don't thank me," McCoy said. "Thank J--" McCoy caught himself from saying the name. "Thank T'Pring."

Sarek raised the brow.

* * *

Supposedly Spock wouldn't complete kolinahr in the next few days. McCoy was sure that the only way to snap Spock out of it was being the sly little shit that made him the best doctor in the galaxy. McCoy was aboard the small starship that he and his acquaintance of a year had acquired. This was one of a kind starship. It had taken him over three weeks to properly learn how to fly it and use its defenses. His co-pilot was a Andorian/Human hybrid by the name Jake Mallard. Mallard was sipping through a straw finishing a drink he had. McCoy looked over toward Mallard.

"When did you get that?" McCoy finally asked.

"At Andoria when we stopped there." Mallard said.

"That was two days ago." McCoy said.

"I kept this refridgerated while you don't with your beverage." Mallard said.

"It's supposed to be cold." McCoy said. "And Mallard,I am making this offer for the last time. You can get out while you still can."

"Then who is going to make sure you get beamed out in time in the transporter if I am not here?" Mallard pointed over his shoulder. "You need some time saving and you won't admit not even to someone interested in helping people." He leaned into the chair. "Are we going on a star fleet mission?"

"Not exactly." McCoy said.

"You shaved your beard." Mallard said.

"So?" McCoy said.

"You returned and you are going on a reckless mission for Star Fleet." Mallard said.

McCoy frowned, feeling insulted.

"No,and my stubble is goin' to be back in a few days," McCoy said. "I did it to be presentable when meeting with Ambassador Sarek." He glanced over toward the stunned Andorian. "Being affiliated with the Ambassadors son comes with its perks."

"You and Mister Spock?" Mallard asked.

"Colleagues." _Which could become something more_ , McCoy thought, _but I doubt it._ Doubt because: why would Spock want to elope with someone who overwhelmed him emotionally? The blame wen to McCoy. His feelings were so great that it drove Spock to the point that it sent him straight to Kolinahr. _  
_

"I did not know you were connected with the Commander that way." Mallard said

"It's nothin' that you are thinking of."  McCoy said.

"How can I be relieved when I have known you to be connected to all sorts of people under various excuses?" Mallard asked.

"T'Shat was a different scenario!" McCoy said. "And for crying out loud, it wasn't what you think it was!" He shook his hand. "I had to help her with deliverin' her triplets. In a cave. Now, I can't imagine why you think a parental relationship with three Vulcanian children is so bad.  I don't understand why you think I have a relationship with every patient who comes into my care."

"Because they act that way." Mallard said.

"You haven't been watchin' or seein' much social interaction since bein' raised in a science laboratory. The only relationship you have seen grown was between scientists test your social knowledge." McCoy said. "Honestly, Mallard, why did I have to be the one to save your little ass from your own inflicted disease? Oh right, T'Shat." McCoy's mental shield fell down where he expelled a flare of anger then he sent the mental shield back up. "We are colleagues."

"Riiiight." Mallard said.

"Besides, the last one I had. . ." McCoy cringed. "Jocelyn and  I are still friends but sometimes a man just needs a break from bein' in a relationship after a bitter divorce." McCoy sighed. "Or getting into one a few years afterwards." He looked over toward Mallard. "The other one, well, that doesn't count. I only did it so I wouldn't be alone when I died and someone to take care of me.  Much as I regret that decision."

Jim went through the doorway to the starship.  It was a small one. There were small narrow passages. There were a few doorways here and there. He went through some of them to find empty bedrooms. He came down the deck to find less doorways. He went through one of them to find that McCoy's quarters were decorated in the bright color of blue. There was a holograph of Joanna on the table. Her light blue eyes and freckles in the arms of her father who had brown hair. They were happy together. And he wore one of his bright smiles. His light blue short sleeved shirt matched his eyes. He didn't have as many laughter lines that he did now. And he looked cute. He smiled at  the photograph then it faded. Jim placed it down onto the table.

Jim stopped.

He just picked up a holograph and put it down.

Could that mean.  . . He could communicate?

Bones would understand, surely? That he wasn't invincible. That he was truly dead. It felt like Jim was part of a cheap ass paranormal movie. He remembered how he got here. He was forcibly tugged. One minute he was in bed, arms wrapped around Spock's lower torso, and the next he was on the bridge. A rather crowded bridge that had buttons galore and noises. The bridge was nothing like the other bridges he had been on in his life. He turned the photo in the direction of the bed. He saw there was a photograph on the wall across. He approached the photograph. Jim recognized himself. They had taken the photo two years into their five year mission. Jim was planning on his second five year mission then. He had decided to tell Spock at the end of their first five year mission

Jim saw another picture.

This time it was of Jim and McCoy in sick bay. McCoy had his arms folded glaring in the direction of the captain. Spock was in the background across from his father. Amanda's figure was seen alongside him. Who took this picture? His thoughts wondered to the security camera. What a way to meet his spouses parents. They were supposed to be at the wedding but there was a mission Sarek was on. Amanda was pleased to meet Spock's husband.  As was Jim to meet the woman who raised his trusting, right hand man. Jim had met Eleanor McCoy when she was on a federation colony that survived a deadly bacteria. It was a personal issue for McCoy seeing his mother the way she was.  Jim thought back to the conversation he overheard. It occurred to Jim that he had taken this photograph from security footage.

Why did he come back?

Jim hadn't learned the reason, yet.

"Captain Kirk."

Jim turned in the source of the direction.

"Greetings, it is pleasent to see you again."

Jim saw a woman with a unique hair style, her eyes were supportive, and she had slanted eyebrows that were thick. He could see the green skin and the familiar pointy ears. She gave the sign of the ta'al. Jim recognized the female as Britlv. She had been a Vulcanian scientist being transported it a Vulcanian colony recently claimed during his five year mission. She was to over see the Sehlat population being bred. He remembered that because it was shortly after the Babel Conference. She had a small smile on her face. He hadn't seen her hair down the last time they seen each other alive. She approached the captain with her hands in the long sleeves. She was in a light green dress with a black sash around the waist. He reciprocated the ta'al sign.

"It is nice to see you too, Miss Britlv." Jim said. "Why are you here?"

"You are lost and confused." Britlv said.

"And to think Vulcans didn't believe in angels." Jim said. He got a strange look from Britlv. "I didn't bother to ask."

"Vulcans are highly logical beings,"  Britlv said. "A ha'su approached me, earlier, and it was logic enlightening experiencing." She paused. "Unlike Ha'u, a seductess demon and seeing a e'shua is terrifying. E'shua are what we call demons."

"You saw one?" Jim asked.

"I saw them." Britlv said. "My ha'su saved my soul. But seeing a e'shua is worse than that you believe demons to be." Jim thought back to various beings he came across calling themselves demons. "Their skin is  a color you wish never to see. The eyes are more than a human would be able to handle. The faces, no Vulcan wishes to see, are horrid. Their appearance alone can be truly terrifying." Jim shuddered. "They are almost skin and bone."

"Part of me is glad Vulcans are against movies regarding them." Jim said.

"It is a banned practice for a reason." Britlv agreed. "Ha'u unlike them look like exotic."

"Do you know why I am here?" Jim asked.

Britlv looked at Jim slightly tilting her head then straightened it.

"You are awaiting your partners, logically." Britlv said.

"But if I were waiting. . . Wouldn't I have started waiting after I died?" Jim asked.

"Sometimes the soul has a funny way of making its way down." Britlv said. "It has been over three years for you, captain, as it has been nearly a hundred for me." She stroked the bed then looked up toward him. "A year can feel that way when you are in what humans call: hell." She was sitting on the edge.

"You were in hell?" Jim asked.

"Figuretively speaking."  Britlv said. "As my ha'su prevented me."

"So how far into hell." Jim said.

"Just enough to know being alone can drive a Vulcan to do illogical things. I went through the wrong door." Britlv said. "And that is all I will say of it."

"Why are you here?" Jim asked.

"To decide rather or not to let my katra be cleanse and return to Vulcan as a new soul," Britlv said. "I was not a scientist who made ground making discoveries, nor was I a poet," She sighed. "But what I was . . . more of a historian than scientist." She looked back up toward the bright young man. "I am surprised to find you here."

"You don't look a day over thirty." Jim said.

"Captain, Captain," Britlv said. "We are dead, no need to flirt."

Jim rubbed the back of his neck.

"Sorry," Jim apologized. "It's just that. . "

"Is that how you got out of danger?" Britlv inquired, raising a eyebrow. "Flirting your way out of death?"

"Actually.. . " Jim was about to say otherwise. "Yes."

Britlv laughed.

"This was the only ship around from where I died." Britlv said. "Old habits have difficulty going away upon death." She stood up once more from the edge of the bed. "That is a tangible aspect of the afterlife we share . . ." She walked around the captain going over to the knapsack on the table. "In life, death is a frightened asset. Some people fight against it because when it happens, it is frightening and terrifying. But the parts after being fatally injured is easy."

"I don't remember my death." Jim said.

"You had a traumatic death, captain." Britlv reminded him.

"Asteroid hitting the planet. . ." Jim said. "I thought deaths like that are natural."

"Not when you see it coming and experience it." Britlv said. "I died of unnatural causes, captain."

"Why would someone kill you?" Jim asked.

"For a very logical reason." Britlv said.

"Humor me." Jim said. "Not every Vulcan is killed out of logic."

"A Andorian colonist who hated the Sehlats my conservation was breeding. Poison." Britlv said. "Getting rid of the person overseeing the program does not eliminate it."

"Your death was illogical." Jim said.

"The logic in it was eliminating their fury," Britlv said. "Not all Andorians share that Andorian's opinion."

"How do you know it was a Andorian?" Jim said.

"We had several disagreements leading to my death and I allowed the Andorian to have tea with me prior to my death." Britlv said.

"That is a shame," Jim said. "You could have made a new breed of Sehlats. Life saving ones."

"We did create several. But I expect them to fail as they are genetically weak against certain viruses," Britlv said. "They were limited to live for a certain period of time." She looked away from the knapsack. "You see, my work is a failure as Sehlats have been genetically adapt to a climate such as Vulcan and attempting to make  new breeds is illogical. Their size is problematic."

"You tried to make new breeds like the humans did with dogs except not with genetic engineering." Jim said.

"Indeed." Britlv nodded. "I have made my decision, captain." She walked past him through the bed. "I only wish that you do not have to wait too long." She turned in his direction then gave the ta'al. "Wait a long and prosperious time for your loved ones."

"Miss Britlv!" Jim called out. "What if they will be the ones waiting for me?"

"Everyone has to wait for something, captain." Britlv said, then she turned away then walked through the doorway where she vanished in a red haze.

Jim sat down onto the edge of the bed. It was true, he cared about his best friends dearly including his partner. McCoy and Jim hit off their friendship quite well. It wasn't until the second year that they were friends with benefits. Before Pon Farr set in. McCoy at first declined to continue the relationship but when it came to saving Spock's life, that personal belief of his was tossed aside. Jim had claimed he wasn't enough for this Pon Farr. Jim remembered how McCoy prepared for it. Two shots, repairing the scars Jim received from the passionate Pon Farr using the dermal regenerator, and arranging for M'Benga to be on duty for the next day. McCoy went inside with a medical kit. Jim and McCoy took turns. The look on McCoy's face seeing a emotionally, intimate physical Vulcan was something that he won't forget. And will never forget that smile. A smile replaced it. His suspicions proved correct.

_McCoy was smiling when Jim awoke, sitting on the chair, fixing himself being a doctor._

_"Jim," McCoy said. "Don't tell Spock."_

_"Why?" Jim asked, alarmed._

_"We not remotely interested in one another." McCoy said. "Unlike you two are."_

_"You are interested in me." Jim said._

_"Personally, Jim, I see Spock as the first officer of this ship and as a friend," McCoy replied. "Not as a lover."_

_Jim frowned._

_"But . . ." Jim started._

_"That was only to save his life." McCoy said. "And you were there for me."_

_Jim got up approaching the doctor._

_"Oh come on, Bones," Jim said. "Our Spock has to know who helped me. I can't take all the credit."_

_"Yes, you will." McCoy said._

_"Fine," Jim said, kneeling down to his level. "But in exchange I get to tell Spock sometime in the far future."_

_"Over my dead body!" McCoy exclaimed, in a hushed tone._

_"Exactly." Jim said._

_McCoy raised his eyebrow._

_"Wait," McCoy said. "Tellin' him over my dead body?"_

_"Yes." Jim said._

_"Don't rub the salt in the wound,Jim." McCoy said._

_"After." Jim said, softly._

_"Emotionally,that might do some good for Spock." McCoy said. "Since he is not likely to remember this particular hot session." He glanced over to the sleeping Vulcan who was snoring.  He looked over toward Jim. "Jim, can I admit somethin' to you?"_

_"Yes, go ahead." Jim said._

_"Sometimes I feel tired." McCoy said. "And some dizzy spells."_

_Jim placed one hand on the doctor's shoulder._

_"I am not a doctor, but that's from worrying." Jim said._

_"Personally, I think  I will die because of the two of you," McCoy said. "Not of old age. Worryin' myself to death." McCoy briefly closed his eyes feeling Jim squeeze his shoulder. "You sometimes make me dizzy with how often you risk your life. I am scared one day I won't be able to save you. Not even if Spock tried, too."_

_Jim's smile softened._

_"I trust you with the life of my partner,Bones," Jim said, letting go of McCoy's shoulder. "Is that not enough?"_

_McCoy sighed._

_"I am retirin' as soon as this five year mission is over." McCoy said. "When I have the chance."_

_"I am considering of going back into space, another five year mission," Jim said. "It is going to be fun."_

_"Fun?" McCoy said. "Are you tryin' to wear me out?"_

_"You get to help people," Jim said. "The more the merrier."_

_McCoy smiled back._

_"Why you are right." McCoy said. "You better stick around for the next Pon Farr. You hear me?"_

_"I will do my best, doctor."  Jim said, coming up toward the man's level._

_McCoy met his eyes._

_"That's good enough for me."_

_Jim leaned forward catching McCoy into a kiss._

_"Jim," McCoy broke the kiss. "Let's end our sexual part of the relationship. Friends?"_

_Jim purred._

_"After you fix me, Bones." Jim said._

_McCoy rolled an eye then looked to the side of the man's waist and his eyes--_

_"Damn it, Jim!" McCoy said. There were red cuts along Jim's waist."You took my turn." McCoy turned the dermal regenerator on. "I can't you believe you did that."_

_"What?" Jim asked. "You flirt all the time."_

_"Do not." McCoy said._

_"Do too." Jim said._

_"I am your doctor, don't argue with me." McCoy said, as he carefully repaired the damaged by Spock's fingernails.  "We are crewmates." He scanned the man's body searching for wounds that the rough sex had given him. "But that won't stop you and Spock from touching me. Won't it?"_

Jim looked up to see McCoy enter the quarters appearing to be tired. He slipped off his pants, then his jacket, and next his shirt. McCoy fell onto the bed. Jim saw how the years had been to the doctor. Jim carefully turned the man over. He was fast asleep. Jim carefully slid the blanket over the doctor. McCoy's hair was in the middle of turning gray. It wasn't Jim's fault that he was growing gray. McCoy groaned turning over. Then he yanked out the cupboard and searched around in it. His eyes were droopy. His hand was searching for the backside of it. How long had Jim been standing in this room? McCoy put an item on the table that resembled a communicator with the yellow lid. McCoy mumbled, "Computer, lights off." The room turned pitch black.

"Medical officer's log," McCoy started. "Number something-ninty-thirty?" He yawned. "Mallard and I went to a colony today. T'Shat was there. The triplets are doin' better after bein' treated." He briefly closed his eyes. "Asides to a shipment of  Romulan ale and goin' on a average mission Jim would go. . . I think I am--" He yawned. "Going nuts. Sometimes I feel like he is still there. I feel like contactin' Spock or T'Pau about it. T'Pau warned me against. . ." He yawned. "Using the bond too soon with my recovery. Sendin' random emotions is workin'."

Jim lunged forward landing on the floor.

"I knew it!" Jim said, shaking his fist. "I should have told Spock!"

"I don't think I am goin' to come back alive from this mission I am on." McCoy said.

"What?" Jim said, alarmed.

"Mallard, that little kid, he is going to be in on one wild ride." McCoy mused to himself. "Jim wouldn't like him either." He yawned. "This is my last log. And if you are listenin' to this, Spock . .  . At least I suceeded on gettin' you the hell outta of that place." He yawned. "If I see Jim, I will be the first one to apologize. End Log." McCoy slapped the lid over then closed it. "Why do I bother taking logs?"

Jim stood there in horror as he realized just what the plan was.

Drag Spock out of retirement by the only means possible.

"Bones . . ." Jim said, as McCoy slid the blanket over himself. 

McCoy lunged forward.

"I didn't put myself under the covers." McCoy looked over in both directions with widened eyes. "Whose there?" He looked both ways in alarm. "This is very odd." Jim moved the photograph featuring him with McCoy to the wall across from the doctor. McCoy looked over in the direction of the empty wall then his head turned in the direction of the wall. He gasped at seeing the photograph. "What the hell is goin' on here?"

McCoy opened the other drawer below the first one then took out a improvised phaser. Jim could tell  it had special modifications and it wasn't like any ordinary phaser. It bore resemblance to the 20th century version of a gun merged into a nerf gun. McCoy turned off the safety protocol then steadily held the phaser up. His hands were trembling. Jim noticed the glass part of the phaser weapon was glowing a light blue with the contents sliding from side to side. McCoy lowered the phaser to his lap with small, wide terrified baby blue eyes. McCoy combed through his hair. He was trembling in bed. McCoy slowly placed the phaser back onto the counter alongside the bed.

"This must be gettin' on my nerves," McCoy said. "Using The Guardian of Forever for a quick visit."

Just what was The Gaurdian of Forever? This inidividual sounded everything that would have Jim's caution and Spock's interest in evulating. It sounded like this person was capable of making eternity/ And how long had McCoy been in deep space?  How long had it been exactly since he dove straight back into the land of the living as a ghost? Just what good would a Star Fleet Captain do, deceased, in this state? Other than waiting. There has to be something that he could do. He felt irritated and annoyed at being useless. It felt surreal. Perhaps, perhaps he can convince McCoy not to do what Jim thinks the good doctor is planning. Jim came to a conviction. He could fix it all with his supposed band-aid which required talking in general through the bond. Knowing Spock, it would be startling and it may leave him in a state of shock at the knowledge that he had not one but two soulmates. For the long while he had been around this new  Spock who looked  a bit of serenity and like he had a stick up his ass. He was going to fix it. At least try.

So god help him.

Not like McCoy is going to be pissed at the dead.

"Just your imagination," McCoy muttered to himself. "Just your over active imagination."

"How am I your imagination, Bones?" Jim said. "You once told me that you believed in ghosts."  He grinned. "Sorry, old friend, but I am afraid tonight isn't going to be the best night sleep you had in the previous days." Jim picked up a pillow then tossed it at McCoy's face. McCoy bolted up looking pale. "TELL HIM."

McCoy picked up the phaser.

"Come out wherever you are!" McCoy demanded. "I am armed! What kind of stowaway are you?"

Jim picked up a hypospray.

"The kind who loves you." Jim said.

McCoy looked over and saw the floating hypospray. McCoy was at a loss of words as his eyes grew small and he gasped in horror holding the phaser. He was terrified, really, staring at the floating object. His hand holding the phaser was trembling. Jim took the lid off walking over to the wall. He then dipped his finger into the liquid inside the container. He started to write on the wall when, "Computer, turn lights on by sixty-eight percent!" The room was engulfed in a bright golden light. Jim wrote the next letters to his demand: **TELL SPOCK**. McCoy gaped in horror seeing the unusual phenomena occurring before his eyes. He was a doctor, not a ghost buster! Chills traveled down the doctor's skin. Jim then added, **BONES. PLEASE.** McCoy was out of his bed approaching the wall as realization dawned on his face.

"J. . . Jim?" McCoy finally said.

McCoy turned around seeing the phaser was floating into the drawer.

"Relax," McCoy said. "I am only approachin' the other Spock to fix a little problem he made." He tapped the side of his right temple above his eyes. "And then to be a doctor going over to a hide out alongside some rumored camp where Romulan/Vulcans are. Hellgaurd, I heard that's the name." Jim closed the drawer. "I am goin' to be fine. You can relax." He paced the room. "And wouldn't you do the same if you were in my shoes?"

"But we didn't know." Jim said.

"Of course you didn't know, so did I." McCoy said.

"That gives no excuse to keep it from Spock and use it to do what I think you are doing!" Jim said.

"You would do the same if you were in my position!" McCoy argued back.

"I wouldn't." Jim said,flatly. Inside, Jim knew the doctor was right. "I would go to Spock and talk to him."

"He is not the same person we knew three years ago." McCoy said. "None of us are!"

"So?" Jim raised a eyebrow. "So are you."

"I am still the same person unlike a certain someone who is dead."

"That is not fair," Jim said. "Just because I am dead doesn't mean I have change--"

"Life and death isn't fair. How you died isn't fair." McCoy sighed rubbing both sides of his temples. "If you knew what it was like after you were gone.  .  ." He closed his eyes. "One of Spock's Science Interns was promoted to Chief Science Officer. T'Pro, oh, she was a nice Vulcan. She was a sassy, unique independent Vulcan. She got alon' with Captain Sulu." Jim looked up in alarm. "He made a good captain. Though after the five year mission concluded he accepted a new mission that got him to lieutenant commander. He told me bein' made captain didn't count.  Because he didn't go through the normal channels and promotion track. That's what he said.  T'Pro actually," McCoy began to sound emotional. "She. . ." He came to a stop. "Janice Lester. She was insane."

"Her?" Jim said, in surprise.

"T'Pro used a lethal Vulcan move when Janice . . Janice. . . Janice refused to believe you were done. There was a fight. Janice is dead. T'Pro was dealt by the Vulcan authorities,afterwards. I went to her trial on Vulcan and told what happened. You see Janice Lester went after me. She thought you were on the ship. Spock was at Vulcan by then. Part of me wished that I never was cured by the Fabrini when she had put me into her body. What I went through after she tricked me. . ." McCoy cleared his throat. "T'Pro, Janice Rand, M'Benga, and Christine were the first to notice." McCoy smiled, briefly. "T'Pro informed the captain that I was being erratic and I was unwell. Which was true. Which meant she, well, I was taken off duty. I nearly died half a year ago because of xenopolycythemia. I acquired a cure for it thanks to T'Pro and me bein' intrigued by the Fabrini." McCoy had a pause. "Part of me is glad that you weren't there. I was hopin' to seein' you again back then."

McCoy felt a icy grip on the side of his shoulder.

"T'Pro's Star Fleet commission was terminated after the trial." McCoy said. "I never. . . I never. . . I never thought an Vulcan could make me that emotional. Knowin' we will never see each other again. That is the part of the ordeal that made me get emotional. Part of me wishes that she killed the woman using a phaser rather the ancient vulcanian way."

"Bones. .  ." Jim said. "I am sorry."

"So, you see, Jim, I have a healthy respect for Vulcans and I think what I'm doing is right." McCoy said. He went over to a drawer then pulled it open and took out a towel. "We nearly lost Sulu to a ship was that was shiftin' in dimensions. T'Pro was the one who insisted that he was still alive. Didn't take much convincin' afterwards for me. My experience was that Vulcans are fairly certain. It was thanks to T'Pro that we were able to get out of the Tholian Web."

"So I am not the only one who feels reassured with having a Vulcan first officer." Jim said.

"Yes," McCoy said. "But she couldn't fill the space that Spock left behind. No one could. For all of us involved, Spock's departure was a emotional day. For someone without emotions they seem to provoke them in others." He snickered. "Vulcans are reliable when it comes to making command decisions. I am surprised that Star  Fleet hasn't commissioned a vessel to be commanded by a Vulcan officer at all." He put away the towel after cleaning the wall with it. "Put the photograph back, Jim. Maybe. . . Maybe Spock could be that officer to command a starship."

"But Bones, he is not interested in command!" Jim said.

"Right," McCoy said. "I forgot about that."

"By getting him to take command of a starship, you are making him do something he dislikes." Jim said.

"You are dead, Jim." McCoy said, slipping into bed. "Takin' command of a starship will make him begin the grievin' process."

Jim considered that.

"That is a good point." Jim said.

"Computer," McCoy said. "Lights off." It grew dark. "Besides, bringin' Spock into a uncomfortable zone is the risk I am willin' too take." Jim slid alongside the doctor who was laid on his side. Jim placed a hand on the doctor's shoulder cupping the side of his face with his elbow on the neighboring pillow. "Good night, Jim."

"Good night, Leonard." Jim said, stroking down the man's shoulder.

Jim was yanked back to the humid climate of Vulcan. Spock was in his quarters resting. He saw the man flickers of emotion in bed mumbling in his sleep, inbetween snores. The Vulcan was adorable while resting. He was at peace. And the show of expressions what was Jim enjoyed, alive, when cuddling with a sleeping Spock. A look of disgust crossed his face. Jim sat on the edge of the cot making it creak. Spock briefly opened his eyes then closed them with a moan. He was still as tall and thin with the blanket outlining his figure. Jim remembered the fond purr of the Vulcan when he was happy. Spock had a chest full of hair. Jim slid the blanket over the Vulcan's shoulder then planted a cold kiss on the Vulcan's forehead. Spock's eyes shot open as he asked, "Whose there?"

"You know," Jim said. "You've known since I came here." Spock closed his eyes. "As a theory . . . at least." Spock was curled up into bed. He gently stroked the side of the Vulcan's cheek. "It has always been you and will always be you. I love you, Spock."


	4. Reward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to brandish my new writing style. Can you spot the improvements? Enjoy!
> 
> T'Hinek means in Vulcan=the bones. 
> 
> Hinek=bones.
> 
> Adun= male life mate.
> 
> shroy ishanai an'kharh wani= listen do not fear me.

Getting to the Guardian of Forever was one thing: getting past the security ships stationed alongside the planet was another issue. But he was able to get past them with a loophole. He didn't want Star Fleet to know, not at all, regarding what his activities were. He hadn't been experiencing paranormal activity since the conversation with Jim. Jim was likely with Spock, where he should be. He leaped through the portal then landed onto dirt.  Ow, his knees stung. And there was a distinctive pain in his calf. He felt wind brushing past his face. He opened his eyes to see Vulcans passing by dressed for the sandstorm that was occurring. How Spock had stood through Vulcan weather bewildered McCoy. Not that the nine months were not at all 'unexpected'. McCoy cursed to himself: _Damn it, Leonard, you should have gone with a coat_. He saw a familiar individual come to a stop alongside him.

"Do you need help?" Came a male voice.

That deep, rich voice was familiar.

"Spock?" McCoy said.

"I am not my brother," McCoy's vision cleared see light blue eyes looking back at him. He looked roughly older than Spock by a decade. That was a strong family resemblance between the two men. All except for the shape of his eyes. His hair was curled back and well cut in a very Vulcan hair style with pointed ears. "I am S'Chn T'Gai Sybok, a healer, and who might you be?"

The Vulcan held his hand out, that was covered by a glove, offering it to the doctor.

"Leonard McCoy," McCoy said, taking Mirror Sybok's hand. "Nice to meet you."

Mirror Sybok had bushy eyebrows that were raised up.

"Doctor McCoy?" Mirror Sybok said, helping the man up. "Former Chief Medical Officer of the USS Enterprise?"

McCoy smiled at first.

"Why yes," McCoy said.

He lowered his eyebrow.

"Come with me," Mirror Sybok said, and let go of the man's hand. "And do not stray."

"How come Spock never talked about you?" McCoy asked.

"Perhaps it is due to my profession," Mirror Sybok said.

"The Spock I knew wouldn't be ashamed for a relative," McCoy said, as they started a pace together.

"I am his brother," Mirror Sybok said, flatly.

"As in, 'brother' or brother brother?" McCoy inquired.

"half-brother." Mirror Sybok replied.

McCoy smiled.

"I can see the resemblance," McCoy said.

"Amanda commented the uncanny resemblance I shared with  Sarek and his betrothed," Mirror Sybok said. "When was I under their household," His voice lowered. "Being the son of a Ambassador and a Priestess I come with less scrutiny and assassination attempts."

"Spock bein' a target on the ISS Enterprise is not a surprise," McCoy remarked.

"You do not wear wardrobe that Doctor McCoy usually comes in," Mirror Sybok said.

McCoy had a warm laugh.

"I didn't expect it to be Vulcan of all places, Mister Sybok," McCoy said. "But undoubtedly he would come here with the same attire as I except for some medals and pins for highlights of his achievements in torture or somethin'."

"He wears it proudly," Mirror Sybok said. 

"You are still goin' to take me to him, right?" McCoy asked.

"I have only seen photos of him," Mirror Sybok said. "We have yet to meet face to face."

"So you trust me?" McCoy asked.

"I believe in your person to restrain yourself from murdering my brother," Mirror Sybok said.

"Well, now that is just mad," McCoy said. "my other self would never murder Spock. It's highly illogical!"

"Illogical? The Terran Empire make illogical, irrational decisions each day that decide the fates of planets and countless civilizations," Mirror Sybok said. "Often by the orders of Vulcans themselves. We would prefer not to conduct genocide. They make us responsible for mass genocide in this parallel universe. Vulcans seek to find logic in this world to make sense of it," His eyes landed on the shorter man. "Do Vulcans seek logic in your reality?"

"Of course," McCoy said. "And they control their emotions so well we can't tell if they don't have them. But someone like Spock . . ."

"From physician to physician, if you were quite aware of someones well being and could potentially harm themselves with their own hands.  .  ." Mirror Sybok said. "Would it be ethical to prevent them from doing so?" He looked at the doctor in great concern. "And would it be logical?"

"Logically, if they are not harmin' you then there is no reason to interfere and so we stay out of their business," McCoy said. "Ethnically, we are obligated to make sure they don't harm themselves." Mirror Sybok turned his head away from the shorter human. "It is part of helpin' others as a friend, colleague, doctor, and a stranger. No one should be left behind."

"That is a bright future compared to what we have," Mirror Sybok said.

"Where is Spock?" McCoy asked.

"He is undergoing kolinahr at Gor," Mirror Sybok said.

"Of course he is," McCoy rolled an eye. _Of course,running away from grief_ , McCoy thought, _and it's still my fault._ "Purging his emotional side."

"His logic," Mirror Sybok said.

"Spock without logic?" McCoy asked. "Are you kiddin' me?"

"Vulcan's are a unfortunate victim of joke shaming and when we joke, we do not take it lightly," Mirror Sybok said. "It can either get us killed or be threatened." His hands were inside his long drawn out sleeves. "I am searching for a dust flyer. I seem to have forgotten my way to Gor." McCoy looked over. "It has been over a decade since I last visited Vulcan."

"Vulcans do not forget," McCoy said.

"Vulcans do," Mirror Sybok said.

"Now that is somethin' I didn't know," McCoy said.

"I forgot my brother's birthday numerous times," Mirror Sybok said.

"Ah, Spock never celebrates his birthday as he had 'nothing to do with his conception'," McCoy said.

"My brother does not celebrate his birthday," Mirror Sybok said. "it is a reminder of why Sarek and Amanda had him."

"To climb the ranks and become emperor," McCoy said.

"Affirmative," Mirror Sybok said. "He prefers science over commanding a starship."

"Spock doesn't like command, no matter what timeline," McCoy said, feeling a smile grow on his face.

"That it appears. He was interested in joining the Vulcan Science Academy when his father orchestrated alienation toward him." Mirror Sybok said. "Spock was never able to quite forgive our father after learning what he had done."

"From what I know, Sarek did nothing to change his mind," McCoy said.

"It seems the relationship my brother and his father share has more potential to reconnect in your world," Mirror Sybok said.

"They started reconnecting during the conference to Babel," McCoy said.  It was a fond memory for the doctor.

"The assassination attempt on Captain Kirk was futile, was it not?" Mirror Sybok said.

''what attempt?" McCoy asked. "are ya talking about the babel one?"

"Nirsh," Mirror Sybok said.

"Which attempt are ya talkin' about?" McCoy asked.

"One of your away missions, there was a first contact initiated between the Takaliens to enslave them by Captain James T. Kirk," Mirror Sybok said. "T'Plass, the doctors personal guard , attempted to kill the captain to throw everyone off."

"He was a science officer," McCoy said. "he was advising the captain when Spock was ill at the time regarding something science-y."

"So you are from a mirror version of my reality,"  MirrorSybok said.

"I wish he hadn't gone down there planet side," McCoy said. "A part of me wishes one of us stayed with him."

"James T. Kirk was killed by his right hand first officer in the line of duty. Doctor McCoy resigned his commission from Star Fleet and went on to be a doctor in the field of torture," Mirror Sybok explained. "Spock resigned before any action could be taken to his crime. Some say he used a machine to do it,vaporizing him. Doctor McCoy, per his accounts, say that he was marooned onto the planet to start anew. Apparently Captain Kirk posed a bigger threat."

"I don't believe you," McCoy said. "But you told me Spock is here."

"He still retains his rank but his honor is non-existant," Mirror Sybok said. "He has dismissed Sarek's guards and left himself a vulnerable target. It is as though he wishes to expired by the hands of a Vulcan."

"I have to undo this." McCoy said. "It's my big, gigantic problem."

"How is this your problem?" Sybok asked.

"I may have overwhelmed the other Spock to the point of goin' to Gor to purge his emotional half," McCoy said. "It is my fault alone. Spock tried, too. He tried to get Jim. But we weren't there on time. He is only alive because of me."

"So you believe Spock tried, too, in this world?" Mirror Sybok said.

"He would rather assume command alongside James T. Kirk than bein' on a starship without him," McCoy said. "Or unless Jim sweet talked him into takin' command. That's the only way."

"Our Spocks are not different," Mirror Sybok said.

"How about little Pree?" McCoy asked.

"T'Pring is currently in the hospital recovering from a grueling long, hard labor, that I am aware due to the rumors of the torture's activities on Vulcan," Mirror Sybok said. "I was not aware she would be in your circle of friends."

"I was her doctor," McCoy said. "Assumingly, my other self hasn't gone through the big dougnut. He is likely out there. . ." McCoy went on a trail of thought feeling a headache pulsing from the side of his head. He gripped the shoulder of the Vulcan rubbing the side of his head. "My head. It is throbbin'."

"Doctor, let me see," Mirror Sybok said. McCoy and Mirror Sybok stepped to the side out of the Vulcanian traffic alongside some food stands. Sybok placed his hand on the side of the doctor's face. He heard the distinctive mental chant in his head: _Our minds are merging, Doctor. Our minds are one. I feel what you feel. I know what you know. . ._ McCoy felt a hand feel carefully around his head. Then a sharp razor feeling pierced into him as though he had been stabbed in the backside. It was like a blade that made him want to shout. Sybok carefully took his hand off the human's face. "Forgive me for my apparent intrusion but it appears your mental link is very sensitive to crossing realities and very delicate at this time."

McCoy opened his eyes.

"Sensitive enough to kill?" McCoy inquired.

"That was not my intention of hurting you,doctor," Mirror Sybok said, apologetically.

"Sybok, please call me Leonard," The doctor shook his hand. "you are my brother in law," The words came out so easily that he remembered the bond hadn't been consummated with Spock. "Wait, I didn't mean what I think you are interpretin' it!"

"You are his bondmate?" Mirror  Sybok asked, with raised eyebrows and a surprised expression on his face.

"No, that was Jim," McCoy walked away with a huff.

Sybok trailed after McCoy.

"That makes the three of you, T'hy'lara." Mirror Sybok said. "Are you familiar to the three parts of the soul?"

"Ethos,pathos, and logos," McCoy said.

"That is my argument," Mirror Sybok said,quickening his pace. "You must fill in the blanks."

"Fill in the blanks?" McCoy said. "That's not an argument. That's the beginnin' of a introductory essay!"

Sybok ignored the doctor's remark. McCoy sighed, following after the Vulcan. Sybok took out something from his robe with a fast pace and began to speak into it. Huh, a communicator. He is likely ordering a taxi. Which was quite logical if McCoy wanted to go to Gor. McCoy had to remind himself that he had to be gentle with this other Spock. Mirror Sybok was a unique,complex individual in this mirrorverse. For all he knew, mirror Sybok might still be different in the one he returned to. Mirror Sybok came to a bench that was surrounded by a blue field. It reminded McCoy, due to its design, of the 21st century bus waiting benches. Humanity had left many of its past behind in the 21st century while progressing into a likable future. He wondered just how far humanity, in the mirror verse, split off from the original reality. Probably from the conception of human beings. Likely being the Passengers. It is the point where most civilizations, T'Pro theorized to the doctor when writing an essay regarding the obelisk using what evidence left behind by basing off her ideas off artifacts that were in the log, came from. She theorized they were indifferent to appearance and were lizard based since a theory goes that humanity could have possibly evolved, instead from monkeys, from lizards. She also accounted her theory for what animals were mostly dug up. McCoy came to the bench then sat down alongside the  Vulcan.

"How big are Dust Flyers, again?" McCoy said.

"Three people can sit in the front," Mirror Sybok said.

"Uh huh," McCoy said.

"D--Leonard," Mirror Sybok said. "If you help my brother. . .  I will be in your debt."

"I take it as a yes that we are goin' to Gor." McCoy said.

"Leonard,you are my--" Sybok started.

McCoy put one finger on the vulcan's lip.

"That's the cheesiest line in the history of thankin' people," McCoy said, then he took his hand off the Vulcan's lip. "Apparently, all the Sarek children are super into Star Wars and my head is ringin' with finishin' that sentence."

"I accept your gift of self," Mirror Sybok said.

McCoy briefly smiled then it faded.

"Say," McCoy said.  "Theoretically, if my other self died in this reality due to my logic. Can you be the one to treat your brother?"

"I am not his physician," Mirror Sybok said.

"What I mean is to be there for Spock when he comes back alone," McCoy said.

"You are planning for something?" Mirror Sybok asked.

"I don't know what my other self is doin' but if I am correct, he is doin' it for Spock's sake. Or, he could be . . ." McCoy paused as a thought crossed his mind. His other self on Vulcan? "Nah. I doubt that my other self would have to go to  Vulcan. Spock wouldn't need a mind meld to know that he was my mirror version."

"That would be logical,"  Mirror Sybok said. "I am curious, are Vulcans free?"

"Of course, Vulcans are free and don't feel paranoid twenty-four-seven," McCoy said. "Vulcans practice logic and controllin' their emotions.  They follow Surak's teachings, including one of not engangin' in  violence." He looked over toward the Vulcan. "I can guess that he was pro-violence in this reality."

"Surak did," Mirror Sybok said. "I cannot see the logic of not practicin' violence."

"Vulcans, at least the ones I know, are more keen on havin' peace," McCoy said. "They are more explorers and scientists than anythin' really."

"They are conquers and scientists," Mirror Sybok said.

"Ah," McCoy said. "At least the science part does not change."

"That I feel is appropriate," Mirror Sybok said.  "The Dirt Flyer will be here in approximately thirty-five minutes."

"I have many stories of how they courted each other," McCoy said. "Which would you like to hear?"

"One where you were annoyed that they were not getting together," Mirror Sybok said.

"That's all of them," McCoy said. "Suppose I should start with the first. . ."

McCoy told the story to the listening Vulcan. Mmirror Sybok raised his bushy eyebrow at the human's story once or twice but generally seemed to be interested. Mirror Sybok nodded, intently. Sharing a small hint of a smile on his face. McCoy went on explaining about how he had to talk the young men into approaching each other and to share their feelings for one another. He went on to another story where they were considering of approaching each other and talking about it. The way he worded it indicated the two had this internal struggle to talk about it with each other for a year. The second story involved a game of chess. Sybok leaned his head away from the back of the seat. 

"That is my brother's favorite activity," Mirror Sybok said.

"It was Jim's, too," McCoy said.

"How did they do in chess?" Mirror Sybok asked.

"Jim won," McCoy said. "every time."

"Spock would win when I played against him," Mirror Sybok said, fondly. "that is highly unlike Spock to lose."

"Unless it were foreplay, I wouldn't be surprised if it was," McCoy said,

"It is nice to hear my brother enjoyed the human's company," Mirror Sybok said, sounding pleased.

He went through the third answering questions about it. The Dirt Flyer came to a landing in front of the two. The two men boarded the small air craft, and Sybok commented, "Gor." There was a female Vulcan with black curly hair in the front. McCoy continued the story. Sybok continued listening to the doctor's story. McCoy finished the story then looked at the older Vulcan rather oddly as though considering something. One part of him was contemplating to ask or if it was rude to pry into the personal life of  his former colleague. The mirror version of the planet Vulcan was not close to being different  than the other. Asides to the less notable difference. Sybok seemed like a nice fellow toward McCoy.  McCoy noted to himself that he had to approach Healer Sybok after getting Spock back into Star Fleet. He cleared his throat coming to a decision. He could guess how different his Spock's childhood was by doing the math. 

"How was Spock as a child?" McCoy finally asked. "Asides to him ownin' a Sehlat."

"He was like a child: emotional," Mirror Sybok said. "He always wanted to make Sarek proud."

"We have roughly an hour to get back,"  McCoy said.

 "I was his older brother and he looked up to me," Mirror Sybok explained. "It was my duty to ensure his survival when in my charge."

"You did a fine job," McCoy said.

"Some attempts that thwarted by me ended up with Spock getting hurt," Mirror Sybok said. "When his mother was called a spy, there was nothing I could do to stop my little brother except take pleasure in watching him beat up a Vulcan."

"Little Spock throwin' punches?" McCoy said. "I would have loved to see that happen."

"I was proud of him," Mirror Sybok said.

"I can see why," McCoy said. "but then I would be a bad big brother."

"No, you would not," Mirror Sybok said. "You would stand proud."

"In your world, that's probably what would be acceptable," McCoy said.

* * *

Mirror Spock was resting in his bed taking a nap in his assigned quarters. Once upon a time he had been a commander of a vessel. And had a T'hy'la, a loving husband, his adun conquering and destroying worlds that refused to be part of the terran empire. It was a sudden, unexpected development regarding his t'hy'la's passing. He was becoming a dangerous asset when it came to his command suddenly veering off from his usual.  The captain losing what made him a great leader. He lowered his shields and dismissed his guards which was a rather large indicator something had gone wrong. Spock had to forcefully pin his husband against the wall to see what was wrong. There was a entity in control of his body and it was determined on changing the empire. Spock had no choice but to use the weapon Jim had used against Pike to climb the ranks. Seeing his friend, his adun, vanishing in a bright color when the doctor walked in.

Mirror McCoy left the terran empire after the five year mission and became a rogue, but renowned lethal, torture expert. A rogue doctor on the prowl. Doing it for free with a assistant, so he heard, while they both went into darker paths. It was his logic that the young man was dissolved. It was his fault the bond hadn't killed him. But why? He couldn't make sense of it because he otherwise felt a pulsing, living bond. He thought it was the last he had seen the doctor when arranging himself to Vulcan. Seeing the crew for what felt to be the last time and interacting--Lieutenant Uhura was the one most hurt by his departure. She felt more than most of the women aboard. They had served together on away missions and used her to break dilithium deals and entering the empire. He missed arguing with the doctor, that, he would care to admit. It was not a sign of weakness but a sign of what humans referred to as "affectionately missing". It was quite surprising to see him in a white attire with a high collar, short sleeved shirt, and long pants. Well trimmed, just like Spock. They shared a nice, short conversation.

Mirror Jim was sitting down along side the bed combing his hands through the man's head, gently, even though the Vulcan could not feel it. There was a longing look from the translucent ghost appearing to be sad. The vulcan was snoring away, quite unaware. He lacked a beard or any form of it. Devoting himself to being illogical meant shaving away what part of logic that bound Vulcans to operate without feelings. He was slowly freeing himself letting go of the logic. It felt like shackles being let go. The door to his quarters opened for T'Sai with both hands behind her back. She was in a dark colored attire.

"Mr Spock," T'Sai said, her voice carrying the Vulcan from his rest. "You have visitors."

Mirror  Spock leaned up.

"I do not have immediate family interested in visiting me," Mirror Spock said. "Highly rational of them to visit but not advisable."

"They are not your parents," T'Sai said. "You have more family than you care to admit."

Mirror Spock raised his eyebrow.

"Intriguing," Mirror Spock said, lowering his eyebrow.

"They are in the visiting section," T'Sai said, then left. 

Mirror Spock shifted into his boots. He made his way out of the room followed by the shorter translucent figure. The hazel eyes darted from passing Vulcan to passing Vulcan, quite wary, of attackers. Mirror Spock did not stop when a Vulcan came speeding toward him with a look of intent. No! The mirror Captain thought, as grabbed the  oncoming Vulcan by the shoulder. Then with sheer force and anger sent them tumbling down to the ground with a hiss. Mirror Spock passed them without giving a care of whether or not the other Vulcan was fine. Mirror Spock.  
  
"Mr Spock!" Mirror Kirk shouted. "Defend yourself!"  
  
Mirror Spock stepped aside out of the path of a Vulcan who Jim tackled and twisted their arm taking them out of service. It was a annoyance for the captain to go through this with his former first officer. Since he was the product of a scandalous affair that was high profiled and controversial, one would think that the Vulcan valued his life over others. Mirror Spock had his hands inside his long sleeves. Mirror Kirk was thoroughly annoyed. Was his death that impact for the Vulcan that not only did he come here to get rid of his logic? The one thing that made him Vulcan? Did he want to turn insane? It felt like a highly, yet likely scenario. The only place that a person like his Spock would belong is the criminally insane asylum. Insanity was cured long ago.  
  
Finally, they came into a room with a circular table. There were three blue stools behind it and one chair in front of it with a back rest. There were 3-D chess set on each table in groups of three. At it sat one familiar man with a pointy eared man and slanted eyebrows. McCoy had his hands on the table in a fist when he looked up in the direction of the much taller, but aged Vulcan. His face had changed over the past few years since they last encountered each other. Mirror Spock came to a stop staring back at the human who now stood up with his hands on the table and his eyebrows raised, half startled at the sudden change in the Vulcan.  
  
"Spock?" McCoy said. "What happened to your goatee?"  
  
"I shaved it," Mirror Spock said.  
  
"Oh," McCoy said. "You made a problem with me. You have to fix it."  
  
"Tonk'peh, brother," Mirror Sybok said.  
  
"What problem did  I ever cause you, Doctor?" Mirror Spock inquired. "Asides to the emotional loss of your colleague."  
  
McCoy frowned.  
  
"You mind raped me, damn it!" McCoy said. The mirror Spock grew a surprised expression. The doctor walked around the table. He shook his fist. "There are somethin's that you left in me that are not appropriate for mine!"  
  
"And why bring my brother into this?" Mirror Spock inquired.  
  
"It was the best idea,"  Mirror Sybok said. "And it was quite logical."

"Yes," McCoy said. "It was. Except we got lost and had to get directions."

"As I said before, it has been too long since I visited Gor," Mirror Sybok said.  
  
"Doctor," Mirror Spock said.  
  
"Because to save your ass requires comin' here and fixin' your problem," McCoy said. "And from callin'  Pree, the other me, rogue me, is still at the hospital with her," The  Vulcan frowned. "At least he is not part of the T'hy'lara package in my world."  
  
Mirror  Spock's face turned long.  
  
"We are soulmates," Mirror Spock said.  
  
"No,"  McCoy said. "I refuse to remotely agree with that statement!"  
  
"That is what I told him," Mirror Sybok said, earning a glance from the Vulcan as he shrugged.  
  
"I cannot be responsible for the Vulcan to be in pain from losin' another," McCoy said. "It will hurt me more than losin' Jim," He stepped forward with a scowl on his face. "I sure ain't leavin' until you fix it."  
  
"You are not the kind to fix," Mirror Spock said. "It is highly illogical."  
  
"Your knowledge, ass hole, is not my strong suit," McCoy said.  
  
"Did you hear what he just said?" Mirror Spock asked.  
  
"I did," Mirror Sybok said. "This human does not need to know everything about this world."  
  
"Taking the skin off patients, torturin' them, puttin' them on a bed of needles just to see how they react to pain," McCoy said. "I don't live to see that in my sick bay. I live to see others bein' healed and I can't walk into another sick bay with that imagery .  . . in   . . . my. . head!"

"I cannot fix you," Mirror Spock said. "No one can change someone else into their liking."  
  
"I am not talking about that," McCoy said. "I am talkin' about the memories."  
  
"Memories make you who you are," Mirror Spock said.  
  
"You can make me forget what you put into my head," McCoy said. "These memories have nothin' to do with me bein'  the man who I am," He pointed to the Vulcan's eyes with his two fingers. "I am not someone who stands out of sick bay, I am a doctor."  
  
Mirror Spock sighed.  
  
"My apologies, doctor," Mirror Spock said.  
  
"Damn right you should," McCoy said.  
  
"And what brings you here, brother?"Mirror Spock asked.  
  
"It is a matter I rather speak to you in private," Mirror Sybok said.  
  
"Father sent you," Mirror Spock sounded bitter about it. "You did not have to be his messenger."  
  
"My motives are not that, brother," Mirror Sybok said.  
  
"Trust me, his motives leave you with him longer than I will be with you," McCoy said.  
  
"Kaiidith," Mirror Spock said.  
  
Mirror Spock placed his hand on the side of the doctor's face then said, "Forget," the Vulcan looked through the memories to find what didn't belong. Then he saw himself with long hair and in dirt clothes and bushy eyebrows. The last time he had bushy eyebrows was before he met Captain Kirk. He found the alien memories that did not belong to the doctors universe and removed them. Suddenly, Mirror Spock was struck by heavy, familiar emotions only outright furious. Mirror Spock grasped the psychic link to feel that it was delicate and fragile for the doctor. It was very thin. What was radiating from the doctor's mind easily spoke what was making him go this far. The fury that the doctor was holding was toward Kolinahr and his counterpart. It appeared to the Vulcan that they had to talk over an issue. Mirror Spock ended the mind meld stepping back.  
  
McCoy smiled, relaxed, and relieved with the gap in his teeth.  
  
"Thank you, Mr Spock," McCoy said.  
  
In a sudden electrical surge the doctor vanished before his eyes.

"I need your help," Mirror Sybok said, as Mirror Spock turned toward the man. "There is an issue that involves your doctor McCoy."  
  
Mirror Spock raised his eyebrow.  
  
"How so?" Mirror Spock asked.  
  
"It is a suicide mission," Mirror Sybok said. "Rumors say he intends on rescuing pro-terran empire Vulcan hybrids."  
  
"That is a rational choice," Mirror Spock said.  
  
_Leonard_ , Mirror Spock thought feeling his emotions get to the best of him.  
  
"It is a illogical choice and you know that, brother," Mirror Sybok said.  
  
"You did not come out of your interest to convince me to stop my path," Mirror Spock acknowledged.  
  
"The Empire asked me," Mirror Sybok said.  
  
"Where?" Mirror Spock asked. "I will stop him."  
  
"Hellguard," Mirror Sybok said.  
  
Mirror Spock's heart sank.

* * *

Spock slipped out of his short scheduled rest then sat on the edge of the cot. Jim was reading a Vulcan novel when the creak in the bed drew his attention. The Vulcan's eyes blinked adjusting his blurring vision to the environment. Jim placed the book back into the book shelf. Spock rubbed his hand against his eyes. Then stretched his arms out. Spock shook his head briefly closing his eyes with a shudder. He had a disturbing nap. He reopened them while he placed his hands onto his lap. He seemed to be disturbed. Jim came over toward Spock.  
  
"What . . . is  . . .  wrong, Mr Spock?" Jim kneeled down to his husband, his transparent hand laid on the Vulcan's hand.  
  
"This is a unusual . . ." Spock said.  
  
"Feeling," Jim finished. His eyes light up.  "You  .  .  felt .  . . something."  
  
Spock shook his head.  
  
"It is illogical," Spock said.  
  
"You once told me .  . .  being connected to someone . . . is illogical,"  Jim said.  "Even when . . . you are supposed. . . not to be," He placed a hand on the side of the Vulcan's cheek. Spock was looking down toward his warm hands laid onto his lap that had one hand covered by a ghostly presence. "You are not alone, Mr Spock."  
  
Spock briefly closed his eyes then reopened them with a sad sigh looking up toward a window.  
  
Jim's hand slid off the cheek then onto the man's green hands.  
  
"Taluhk nash-veh k'du," Jim said, softly pressing his hands onto Spock's while focusing all his emotions to it. He repeated the phrase mentally in his mind, over and over, with intensity. He looked up toward the Vulcan with that adoring, doting yet loving and hopeful expression. One that could not be seen by the Vulcan. Jim felt hurt that he couldn't hold the Vulcan in bed, be in his arms, and talk to him. Sure he could touch the Vulcan but Spock could not touch him. Jim was keeping himself together because of Spock and Bones. Jim's bread and butter. He couldn't fall apart on them. Not when Spock is burning through Kolinahr to make himself into a zombie. Spock needed to know that he was loved no matter what was happening and that he had a choice.  
  
Spock's head turned from the window.    
  
"Taluhk nash-veh k'du," Spock said.  
  
Jim smiled.

"T'hy'la," Jim said. "There are minutes . .  . where I wish . . .  I never died on you," He stroked the Vulcan's green hand lightly with the side of his thumb. "You, me, and Bones . . .  out there going where .  . . no man has gone before," Jim felt himself growing emotional thinking about the time they had and the missions they went on together. The familiar bickering over his shoulder. "I miss that."  
  
The door to the quarters opened.  
  
"Mr Spock,"  T'Sai said. "Thee has a visitor."  
  
Spock looked over toward her direction.  
  
"In the visiting section?" Spock said. "My parents would not be visiting."  
  
"Not thy's parents," T'Sai said.  "I will see thee after thy meeting."  
  
Spock paused, baffled, as she went past the doorway.  
  
"Intriging," Spock said. "after so long, my brother decides to visit."  
  
"Spock!" Jim said, standing up. "You have a brother?"  
  
"Half brother," Spock corrected himself.  
  
Spock slid into his boots.  
  
"Mr Spock  . . ." Jim took the Vulcan by the shoulder. "Why did you never tell me about your brother?"  
  
Spock sighed.  
  
"It may be that he left Vulcan under a exile," Spock said. "and that he may be visiting me illegally  . . . Perhaps why," Spock looked over toward the window. "I did not bother searching for him in my youth."  
  
Jim let go of the Vulcan's shoulder allowing Spock to exit.

"Mr Spock. . ." Jim said.  
  
Jim was lured after Spock, his feet moving beneath him, but it was as though he had no free will to move away. Vulcans passed by the tall Vulcan. Spock's long hands were in his sleeves. Spock was like a alien humanized cat to Jim. A alien cat that had a strange biology to stand the massive heat Vulcan's sun stood against them. Naturally, in order to live on it, the body had to adapt. Vulcan males in their youth were constantly warm. Some studies that Jim had read regarding elderly Vulcans is that if their mates were overheating they can plop right down on them frozen ice cube and fall asleep while in bed. Jim was still baffled on why Vulcans became colder as they aged,  and it didn't make sense for someone so cat like. Humans, compared to Vulcans, were the Labrador retrievers in space because they were so damn friendly. That Jim cannot deny. No one could deny that. It was considered a insult to call humanity the monkeys in space. Because they were really not.  
  
They came into a circular room with tables that had pairs of 3-D chess boards  on each. There were black stools across from the 'u' shaped hole in the table. There was a comfortable seat in front of the table. There was a bearded man with pointy ears sitting down at a table with his hands clasped together and he wore golden earrings while in a dark brown robe. He had tattoos along the side of his face that were easily Vulcan calligraphy. Jim was familiar to the calligraphy due to taking time to learn it with Spock when off duty.  Jim recognized one of them reading 'pain healer' from the left side of his face. The Vulcan male had ruffled hair that appeared as though he had not gone to a barber in what felt to be a month regarding the beard. Jim took the Vulcan's shoulder, gently, so he could feel the Vulcanian's pain at seeing the older man. His hand slowly loosend on the Vulcan's shoulder. Sybok had his hands together laid on the table. His kind, gentle eyes looked upon his brother with a glint in them.  
  
"Spock," Sybok said.  
  
"You were exiled," Spock said.  
  
Sybok stood up.  
  
"That," Sybok said. "I was."  
  
"And what brings you here?" Spock asked. "Willing to be sent to a panal colony?"

"I am," Sybok said.

"You are even more irrational the last time we met," Spock said.

"Thank you, brother," Sybok said. "Have you heard of Hellgaurd?"  
  
"Bits and pieces," Spock said. "that is a place no one should go."  
  
"I came here . . . to tell you," Sybok said. "That is where I am going."  
  
"That is illogical," Spock said.  
  
"I will be hidden to best advise those who have escaped and need help," Sybok said.  
  
"You came here to tell me something that you are preparing to do," Spock said.  
  
"You are my little brother,"  Sybok said. Sybok gave a small smile. "it is logical to give you  closure."

"Does father know?" Spock asked.  
  
Sybok paused.  
  
"I rather not say," Sybok said.  
  
"You said 'was'," Spock said. "Which implies the exile has been lifted."  
  
Sybok shook his head.  
  
"I have informed that I am a relative of S'Chn T'Gai Selek," Sybok said.  
  
"Selek?" Spock said. The name was unfamiliar. "Who is Selek?"  
  
"He was around before you were born," Sybok said.  "A . . . Unique Vulcan. Very encouraging to me. One of a kind." The older man had a smile at the memory. "He looked a lot like you do now except ten years older from now."  
  
"Father would have told me," Spock said. "Sybok."  
  
"Brother. . . I have thought long and hard about this issue,"  Sybok said. "given the news about the loss of your inclusion in star fleet. . . " He paused. "I did not expect to make more pain than you need."  
  
"I have no pain," Spock said, his voice dripping in lies.  
  
"Mr Spock!" Jim said, in alarm.  "This . . . is .  . .  your . . .  brother."  
  
"Sure you do not," Sybok said.  
  
"Vulcans do not lie," Spock said.  
  
Sybok's face softened, as he had placed one hand on his brother's shoulder.  
  
"Live long and prosper, brother," Sybok said.  
  
"Live long and prosper, Sybok," Spock replied.  
  
Just like that, Sybok was leaving Spock's life, again. He remembered seeing Sybok and his many friends be escorted off into a shuttle craft and be lifted off from Vulcanian soil. He remembered watching the shuttle vanish into space as he watched his older brother's vessel vanished into the sky when T'Khut was giving the allusion of night. His hands on his knees feeling so alone and without a home. A place to call home and people to call family, who clearly made it obvious that he belonged with them. Sarek and Amanda were a different story, it was a family, but not the conventional kind. Sarek was reeling from Sybok's exile. He had not approved of Spock's decision to join Star Fleet. Disapproved him using violence to fight against fellow Vulcans for insulting his mother. If Sarek had known what they called her---That wasn't a viable question to debate. It was illogical for violence. Violence never got a Vulcan anywhere except getting hurt.

* * *

The small starship jetted out away from the hiding place from the planet orbit. McCoy was sitting in the seat pressing buttons. Mallard looked over in the direction of the doctor noticing a unique calmness about him that was not business as usual for him. Hearing silence on the bridge after that quick get away made a twisted, sickening feeling in his stomach. Or maybe it was his paranoia of not feeling anything, psychically, from the doctor. McCoy picked up a cup of sweet tea and took a sip. Normally he would be feeling about something about the doctor such as doubt heavily weighing in his mind. The humans feelings often betrayed the man when he was speaking to Mallard as it had to any human speaking with the young man.  
  
"Are you okay, doc?" Mallard asked.  
  
McCoy's baby blue eyes looked over in the direction of the Andorian/human hybrid with a smile.  
  
"I am fine," McCoy said. "I feel better than I had, earlier."

"That is nice to hear," Mallard said. "So your problem got fixed."  
  
"Yes," McCoy said.  
  
"Doctor," Mallard said. "I sense. . . this is unusual coming from you."  
  
"Of course it is," McCoy said. "unusual for me to be this . . . content."  
  
"Like it is final," Mallard said.  
  
"It could be that way," McCoy said.  
  
"I like to think that is not the case for someone like you," Mallard said. He paused as realization started to hit him. "What kind of mission are we on?" Mallard leaned to his side toward the doctor. "You didn't give me the full story before you left."  
  
"Hellgaurd," McCoy said. Mallard's stomach twisted. "We are goin' to do somethin' about that Romulan colony."  
  
"But it is abandoned," Mallard said. McCoy shook his head, amused. "It is!"  
  
The doctor looked over in the direction of Mallard.  
  
"Then why are there Romulans if no one is there?" McCoy inquired.  
  
Mallard paused.  
  
"Because the colonists who lived there have abandoned it and it is not being well kept," Mallard said. "And it is a perfect hide out," He gestured toward the older man. "The definition of abandoned."  
  
McCoy took a sip of his sweet tea.  
  
"So this is why you have been asking me repeatedly if I want to leave,"  Mallard said.  
  
McCoy swallowed what bit he had drink.  
  
"Yes," McCoy said. "Do you still want to go?"

"You need a assistant to work with the survivors,"  Mallard said.  
  
"What if I told you that it won't be easy to get them out?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Doctor," Mallard said. "nothing is easy."  
  
"Well, without Jim and Spock," McCoy said. "this will be a piece of cake."  
  
Mallard raised his eyebrow.  
  
"All the missions you had on the Enterprise is nothing like this," Mallard said.  
  
McCoy nodded.  
  
"Exactly,"  McCoy said.  
  
"Oh," Mallard said.  
  
"I don't have the danger magnet with me," McCoy said.  
  
"I see," Mallard said. "so the missions you had with Mr Spock mean that he is a danger magnet?"  
  
"Yes," McCoy said, then he took another sip. "that he is," He looked over toward the younger man with a softened expression on his face. “except for me.” He took another ship from the delicate tea cup.  
  
To see McCoy at peace with himself was a rare thing. Let alone for Mallard. Nothing was bothering the doctor or his mind. So it felt unnatural to see McCoy at peace sitting in the same room. Like Mallard was intruding on a off duty star fleet officer who was in his natural surroundings. McCoy was not stressed. The source of his stress had been removed long ago. As had the source of the doubt. There was no fear radiating from the man’s mind. All there was radiating from the doctor was “I can do it!”. It was as though he was certain what he was going to do would save lives even at the cost of others.  
  
“Why is it that they attracted danger and not you?” Mallard asked.  
  
“I don’t know,” McCoy said. “I am a doctor.”  
  
“I mean,” Mallard said. “You are a doctor who is currently risking his life to save someone in  afield where other physicians deal with that kind of danger,” Mallard noted. “and yet, you don’t have a chance of getting threatened.”  
  
“I learned to fire a phaser durin’ my days at the academy,” McCoy said. “I rather not take another life when I save them.”  
  
McCoy stopped, wincing, at the memory of the ship being attacked by a pseudo alien named Krall, actually, Captain Balthazar Edison. Picking up a phaser and shooting down what seemed to be humanoid insects while protecting a minor injured Geoffrey M’Benga and Lieutenant  Romaine. Seeing crew members littering the hall against the wall. The ship sending out loud blaring music to stop the attack. The main aggressor of the attack heading down toward Altamid. Sending down survivors to Altamid and relaying a distress signal. A skeleton crew commanding the starship. Krall being killed by Sulu in order to protect his crew. Meeting a woman named Jaylah, a farmer by his standards with her luxerious garden hidden by ferns and large branches, who showed Sulu and McCoy the buried USS Franklin. There were other survivors of attacks that they had discovered. It was only later that he learned what he had shot down was a drone not a real organic being.

It had him fooled.  
  
“Doctor?” Mallard asked. “Are you okay?”  
  
“I am fine,” McCoy said. “I was just thinkin’ of Altamid.”  
  
“Oh. . .” Mallard said.  
  
“What were ya sayin’?” McCoy asked.  
  
“Just that I had sympathy,” Mallard said. “And how the Enterprise is going to be out of refit in a few days.”  
  
“I knew that,” McCoy said. “My colleagues are goin’ to be a travelin’ family. At least until . . .” He stopped. “Ah, they plan to come back when it is her rite of passage,” He shook his small hand, lightly. “Can’t exactly keep them on Vulcan. A planet side federation colony, sure, but on Vulcan?” He swayed the drink to the side. “No,” He shook his index finger. “they want to serve Star Fleet,” He leaned back into the chair. “and nothin’ is going to stop them from that.”

Mallard briefly smiled.  
  
“So,” Mallard said. “how are we going to get into the colony?”  
  
“First,” McCoy said, leaning froward with his arm on the side of the console. “We turn off communication frequencies.”  
  
_The small starship flew into orbit  of a planet followed by Romulan Bird of Prey._  
  
“We give them a leg fire with the back end phasers.”  
  
_The phaser cannon rotated firing at the Romulan bird of prey._  
  
“Leg fire? I understand many things. But not that.”  
  
_We overhear McCoy’s laughter as the wings were struck._  
  
“Catchin’ someones leg on fire will immobilize them, temporally.”  
  
_The lower section of the ship were struck leaving a superficial scar._  
  
“Ooooh.”  
  
_The two birds of preys were going on impulse._  
  
“But they go slower.”  
  
_The starship turned around  and fired at them._  
  
“Slower? How does that matter?”  
  
_The phaser blasts struck the middle bird of prey._  
  
“We have to take lives in exchange to save some.”  
  
_The small starship vanished into the cloud of smoke._  
  
“And then, we have to engage the lower upper half off from the bridge.”  
  
_The birds of prey turned around then waited to fire as the smoke slowly cleared._  
  
“Then what?”  
  
_A  shuttle craft size part fell. It was destroyed by the romulans._  
  
“We wait.”  
  
_A large quantity of metal flew in space as the two romulan bird of preys slowly made their way to the planet._  
  
“Why?”  
  
“To make make our entrance.”  
  
_The starship swooped around the moon out of the radar darting toward the planet._  
  
“And how do we get out?”

 _The starship vanished from the line of sight._  
  
“I am not sayin’ it, but one of us may not come back from that trip when it comes to escaping.”

* * *

Sybok’s cloaked craft lowered to the abandoned desert like scenery where sand was flying.

A beam of light poured out of the back end of the vehicle where a ramp came down. Sybok walked out of the form of transport with a knapsack over his shoulder wearing a pair of goggles as there was a sand storm. He placed a dark hood over his face then came to the side of the ramp once off. A lizard went past the ramp. He tapped on a  flat screen on the side. The cloaked craft ramp slid upwards. There was a flat screen at the bottom that he could reach easily with his hand and register it to lower. There had been rumors of there being a underground movement assembling here making  cabins that were built against the land of the climate and its weather. It was, compared to Vulcan, not at all Vulcan with the sand storms. There were more vegetation here than it was on Vulcan at first glance. On his travel here, the dark web had informed him of a hide out to where that he parked where he can reside in temporary. He had acquired a large vessel once used for surveying in planetary orbit before first contact had been established with humanity. The ramp was different as it slid from the bottom to the floor. The previous models had doors that slid up wards and a stair case that slid down for dramatic effect. He had been promised that he would matter dearly. And that what he had would be helpfil. His knapsack was full of supplies that had been properly folded was stored. It was a heavy knapsack.  
  
It was quite a intriguing sight.  
  
It was close, that he had been told, from his given directions.  
  
It was a abandoned shelter, far as  Sybok had been told, once built by some colonists in the event of a planetary emergency that left it unwise to stay in. The information indicated that it was shortly forgotten afterwards. At least they believed why it wasn’t occupied by Romulans. Well, not exactly forgotten more so chosen not to bring it up. Sybok trudged his way down the path looking for the landmarks that had been described.  He saw the landmarks that were still visible to the eye through the goggles. The large tree stump with a scar in the center. A collection of pebbles that made a mound, a large boulder that seemed to have a distinctive cat fish face even though it must have been made by erosion, a large blade sticking out from the ground that was twisted, the skeleton of what appeared to be a elephant, and what seemed to be antlers poking out of the ground but was actually a  mind of tree root to a plant species that lived underground rather than above. A large nest near a rocky scenery indicated that he was extremely close.  
  
It was like a cliff with mountain sides.  
  
Sybok could see the colony complex in the distance as shapes.  
  
“Years of being away and their building style for colonies have not changed,” Sybok noted to himself.  
  
The last land mark was a rounded object on the dirt in the shape of a triangle in front of what seemed to be a rounded shape in the wall across from a clearing that had stair like designs leading up to the top for a hike. The humor was not lost on Sybok who had amused laugh to himself. A baseball diamond. A human likely used a phaser to carve this shape out as a sign of familiarity. Recognizable enough to be the sport sign of humanity only with red etchings on it. He placed a hand on the side of the wall. The wall slid away allowing the Vulcan to enter. He entered, hesitantly, with the doors closing behind him. The lights gave way to reveal a tall Andorian male sipping from a cup leaning against the wall against his shoulder. He lowered it and smiled at the Vulcan.  
  
“Hello, I am Jake,” Mallard said. “Jake Mallard. We can really use you.”  
  
“An Andorian?” Sybok said, in surprise.  
  
“Half,” Mallard said. “part human.”  
  
“You. . .”  Sybok said.  
  
“Set up the directions here?” Mallard shook his head. “nah, not me,” Mallard said. “good old Doctor McCoy did.”  
  
“Doctor McCoy?” Sybok said. “The federation doctor."  
  
“Ex-federation doctor,” Mallard said. “McCoy hasn’t said when he would come back,” He gestured the taller Vulcan over. There was a fountain in the center that had been recently cleared of vines and covered from head to toe in pebbles in all sorts of sizes and shapes. “I will guess when your brother is back in Star Fleet.”  
  
“It does feel unnatural to see him in Vulcan robes,” Sybok admitted.  
  
“I always thought of him as a Vulcan who preferred to be in uniform,” Mallard said.  
  
“He is that kind of Vulcan who looks better in uniform,” Sybok agreed.  
  
“Say,” Mallard said. “Are you ready for this?”  
  
“I came here ready, Mr Mallard,” Sybok said.  
  
“Good,” Mallard said. “I hope you were not lying about being capable of being a grief counselor and helping people deal with their grief.”  
  
“Vulcans do not lie,” Sybok said.  
  
“You know that is a bunch of bull shit,” Mallard said.  
  
“I take their pain away,” Sybok said. “and I ease them into their new reality.”  
  
“You have followers?” Mallard asked.  
  
“Sha ka ree is not real,” Sybok said.  
  
“Ah, so none,” Mallard said.  
  
“Is my search for Sha Ka Ree that well known?” Sybok asked.  
  
“.  .  .  Yes,” Mallard said.  
  
“It is a embarrassment,” Sybok said.

Mallard nodded, with a smile.

“Understood, Mr Sybok,” Mallard said.

Mallard came to a stop at a doorway. He placed his hand on a screen. The door slowly slid open to reveal a gray wide room that was more of a medical lab than anything else that was sliced in half to a patient room. There were men and women, twenty at least, on one side of the room with children around ten of them. They were being treated by a pointy eared man sitting on a chair using a old styled dermal regenerator that was barely working. The doors came to a close behind Sybok as the survivors flinched looking in his direction and most of them were in fear. He saw some of them lacked the pointy tips to their ears, their shirts clung to them as though there was no body fat to support them--and it came careening down onto the Vulcan that this is why they requests so many supplies. Mostly fruit and vegetables to get their body fat back.

“This is Sybok,” Mallard said. “Doctor!”

“Got enough to last us?” McCoy’s voice came from the pointy eared man who sounded like him. The man turned toward their direction. “Ah,” The man’s face softened to see the bearded man. “Sybok,” There was a fond expression on the man’s face and a look of recognition. “Come over here. T’Tumak needs your help. Mallard, get to those kids with the new equipment and be steady with these!”

“What happened to the old equipment?” Sybok asked.

“Well,” Mallard said. “I broke them.”

“He never handled equipment in his life,” McCoy said. “this kid. Can you believe him? Acts like he never rode a horse.”

“I said I was sorry,” Mallard said. “and horses are terrifying.”

“Relax,” McCoy said, gently, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “he is here to help.”

The young man relaxed.

“I grieve with thee,” Sybok said, gently.

“I thank thy logic,” T’tumak said, his voice low repressing how emotional he really was.

Sybok carefully analyzed the women and the men, including the children to determine how to approach them. They were obviously terrified of seeing another Vulcan. McCoy looked over toward the children, sadly, almost in pity. His baby blue eyes had been replaced with a new eye contact being green. It appeared as though he had gone botoxing as he looked twenty years younger than he really was. No lines on his face. Just the gleaming glow of his skin radiating of green. He truly looked like a Vulcan with the black hair. There was a colorizer left on the table close by with a list of settings. He would need an hour with this man to make him realize that he did not need to be afraid of everyone. He didn’t appear to be happy. He looked dead inside. His eyes weighing heavily in grief.

"T'Tumak, Sybok!" McCoy over said. "Please go to the deactivated biobed along the wall."

"Of course, Doctor T'Hinek," T'Tumak said.

McCoy moved the two men to a old biobed.

“Share me your pain,” Sybok said.

“Vulcans do not feel pain,” T’Tumak leaned away.

“I am a Vulcan, ri-fainusu, I feel pain,” Sybok said. “your emotions are valid.”

T’Tumak looked up toward Sybok.

“You are S’Chn T’Gai,” T’Tumak said.

“Son of Sarek,” Sybok said.

“The one who was exiled,” T’Tumak said. “I heard of you.”

“I got better,” Sybok said. “I help others with their pain,” He lightly placed a hand on the Vulcan’s shoulder. “and gain unity from sharing it. Emotionally, we are stronger together.” T’Tumak briefly closed his eyes experiencing his sincere interest in helping him. He was terrified, should he let a Vulcan who could pass for a Romulan try to help him? “ I can’t help but notice your pain.”

T’Tumak was trembling.

“How do you . . . handle others pain?” T’Tumak said.

“The phrase kaiidith comes to mind,” Sybok said. “and sharing your pain. Let me be there with you.”

* * *

McCoy took a bottle of bourbon out then poured the contents into two glasses. There was a third but it was  a glass of green milk that was highly nutritious. It was silent except for the sounds of liquid falling into the glass. Hours had waned past since the Vulcan's arrival. They were drinking in the garage sector of the underground building while the survivors were resting on the warm, energized biobeds. McCoy's hands were a little unsteady, trembling, then he leaned back. McCoy put the lid back onto the bottle where he placed it to the side. Sybok saw pain in the doctor's eyes. He also noticed that the pain was uncomfortable for the doctor. Mallard was silent for once in the evening. Making sure the children went into a improvised sonic shower. On the table laid a large sack with trinkets.  
  
"I did not expect you to be here, Doctor McCoy," Sybok said.  
  
McCoy glared back at the Vulcan.  
  
"Who did ya think would do this?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Relief workers,"  Sybok said.  
  
"Relief workers wouldn't risk their lives for this," Mallard said.  
  
"And it is tricky to get here," McCoy said.  
  
"Not at all," Sybok said.  
  
"You came with a cloaked starship," Mallard said.  
  
"It was a stolen craft," Sybok said.  
  
"Which makes ya lucky," McCoy said.  
  
"How has someone like you adapted to a place with Romulans?" Sybok said.  
  
"You don't,"  Mallard said as McCoy took a sip. "You become them."  
  
"Are you meaning to tell me. . ." Sybok was appalled. "Did you. . . "  
  
Sybok's eyes started to widened.  
  
"He would not let me," Mallard said, glaring over toward the drinking doctor.  "I wanted to help."  
  
McCoy glared over toward the young man while lowering his glass.  
  
"Kid, you are a hybrid," McCoy said.  "And you shouldn't lose your antennas over this mission," He gestured toward the man. "and changing the color of your skin would have been a waste of our resources. Our colorizer cannot work on turning your hair black."  
  
"Sometimes I hate that," Mallard grumbled.  
  
"You are just worried that they will find out  I am not who I really am," McCoy said.  
  
"Someone should be," Mallard said.  
  
"They won't," McCoy said.  
  
"You genetically altered yourself," Sybok finally said.  
  
"A wise Vulcan once said, 'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few'," McCoy said. "or the one."  
  
"Are you going to revert yourself back to a human?" Sybok inquired.  
  
"I have found resources to undo what the doc did to himself," Mallard gestured over toward McCoy.  "however, it won't be easy. It will be painful as hell."  
  
"Black market," Sybok said.  
  
The two men nodded.  
  
"Just imagine how painful it would be for a Andorian," McCoy said.  
  
"Excruciating," Sybok said. "I am familiar to it."  
  
"I would have been able to stand it," Mallard said.  
  
"No, you would have not," McCoy said.  He took another sip from the bourbon.    
  
"My brother would be displeased of your choice," Sybok said.  
  
"Honestly?"  McCoy said.  "I am not comin' back whole. Spock is the reason why I am here."  
  
"You are the bait," Sybok said.  
  
"Yep," McCoy said.  
  
"That is quite logical of you," Sybok said. "Relying on your friendship with him. . ."  
  
McCoy and Mallard shared a knowing glance.  
  
"He doesn't know?" Sybok asked.  
  
"Oh," McCoy said. "he will."  
  
McCoy slid out a collection of small rounded objects in the shape of pokeballs onto the table.  
  
"When the doc is on the verge of dying there will be a signal sent out and the rest will fall together," Mallard said. "and everyone is happy." The young man took a sip from his glass.  
  
"Getting them off the planet is easier said than done for us," McCoy said. "and helpin' them get back on their feet. .  ." He looked toward the Vulcan. "ya will take care of them by smugglin' them out in these."  
  
"It will take more than a day to help each and every one of them," Sybok said.  
  
"This is why you need to have a apprentice under your wing to help continue your style of healing pain," Mallard said.  
  
"I do not need people to misuse this gift," Sybok said.  
  
"Abusin' it in what way?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Brainwashing," Sybok said.  
  
McCoy sighed.  
  
"Look, Mr Sybok," McCoy said. "everything has its disadvantages."  
  
"Even medicine," Mallard said. "in the beginning, if you used it too much, your body became dependent on it." McCoy took another sip. "It was intoxicating, a lot like a toxic relationship between two people, except it harmed the body."

McCoy nodded.

"My point exactly," McCoy said.

 Sybok nodded his head in understanding.

"You are confidant that it won't be misused?" Sybok asked.

"There is reasons why we have rules for everything," Mallard said, with a hand wave.

"So make ya self some rules and follow them," McCoy said.

"It is what we did," Mallard said.

Sybok took a sip of his glass.

"How did you find this place?" Sybok said.

"Diggin' up information regardin' this colony," McCoy said.

"Turning it on required using our ship and using it to put it back together," Mallard said. "we did it under the cover of night. Don't underestimate humans when we are determined to get something done."

"We did cheat," McCoy said.

"We used the transporter for the larger parts," Mallard admitted.

"This table is the phaser canon upside down just without the firin' section," McCoy said.

Sybok looked under the table to see that it looked like a table except the supporting beam was the handle to the phaser canon.

"Impressive," Sybok said, leaning back up.

"Thank you," The two men said.

"The biobeds were another story," McCoy said. "while I was making myself known to the community, Mallard had to connect the biobeds in a hurry," Mallard nodded. "and turn them on. And fix them, too."

"Wasn't easy," Mallard said.

"He burned his hands," McCoy said. "And he broke the dermal regenerator in a hurry to fix himself."

"He had to fix it," Mallard said.

"I am not a engineer but he is lucky that  I studied the design plans for every tool we brought," McCoy grumbled. "we would have been royally screwed up if those balls were broken. I can't fix them."  
  
"But they can be saved because they would be living energy," Mallard said.  
  
"But getting them out in one piece after fixing a broken ball," McCoy said. "no one has ever done that."  
  
"You are a pioneering physician in space," Mallard said.  
  
"You can do anything," Sybok agreed.  
  
"My hands are not steady as they were," McCoy said, holding his free hand out. It was trembling. "What if I hit the wrong wire?" He reached his hand back. "What if I put it together wrong? What if I made a mistake?" McCoy had his head turned toward the young man with a growing stubble on his face. "What if I didn't do it right?"  
  
"Then we better not break them," Mallard said.

Sybok cleared his throat.  
  
"So," Sybok said. "what have you been eating lately?"  
  
"Potato soup," McCoy said. "the kind that can easily be replicated."  
  
"Delicious," Mallard nodded.  
  
"And it does hit the right spot," McCoy added.  
  
"Potato soup?" Sybok asked. Sybok frowned then took out a large collection of cans from the bag. "That does not sound healthy," He turned the cans in the direction of the young men and then a phaser out. "How about green beans, tomatoes, and  corn."  
  
"Did you add that to the list?" McCoy looked over toward Mallard.  
  
"Not really," Mallard said. "I put cotton candy, mushrooms, tomato slices, strawberries, pepper, lettuce .   .  ."  
  
McCoy turned his head in the direction of the Vulcan.  
  
"I believe we have the silverware for that," McCoy said, as a wide smile appeared on his face.

* * *

Sybok was more than amused how they made their dinner for the past few days. They had been here for three days according to McCoy. The place where armor and weapons were kept had been turned into a kitchen. A rather unique kind of kitchen that had metal parts ironed into different parts or smoothed out by a phaser setting. Sybok had supplied a couple dozen cans dinner for everyone. The children were recuperating yet they were wary. The children and adults were in new, clean attire. In this underground place, there was no fear. It was hard to tell that they were in a dangerous setting asides to the frightened, traumatized, guilt ridden colonists.  
  
"Where does the doctor normally sleep?" Sybok asked, as the improvised dishwasher cleaned the plates.  
  
"Good question!" Mallard said, looking up from the machine. "Sick Bay, maybe?"  
  
"Sick Bay is not a good place to sleep in," Sybok said.  
  
"I honestly have no idea," Mallard admitted. He shrugged. "I sleep best on the floor."  
  
"You? On the floor?" Sybok said. "Laying on the cold, hard floor?"  
  
"I can't sleep in a bed. I can sleep on a rug. I can sleep on the ground. On the grass. On rock," Mallard said. "I normally sleep in the shell of what had been my quarters down in the entrance."  He pointed over his shoulder.    
  
Sybok could see in the distance in the lightly lit room that there was a long, large blanket. There was a closet, a table with various trinkets, and a bookshelf stacked with shapes belonging to books. The walls were colorfully painted being a bright shade of pink with pink curtains, pink floor, including so was the blanket but it was a darker shade of pink. Sybok was impressed to see a pink room. His childhood friends had darker themed rooms such as black and a peace sign curtain with a rainbow background. Listening to dark metal songs. And classical rock music. His childhood bedroom was a grand theme of all sort of colors that were vibrant. Sybok turned his attention in the direction of the young hybrid.  
  
". . . Why?" Sybok asked.  
  
"I have sensitive hearing and a light sleeper," Mallard said. "doc can be safer that way including the survivors," He patted along side his thigh. "I have been practicing to fire phasers."

 "Understood," Sybok said. "Everyone has their method to fall asleep."  
   
"What about you?" Mallard asked.  
  
"On a flat bed and a blanket with a pillow," Sybok said. "That is all I need."  
  
"Light or deep?" Mallard asked.  
  
"Deep," Sybok said.  
  
"Okay," Mallard said. "just to be sure. Because if you opt for 'night gaurd' duty then you are disqualified."  
  
"That is logical,"  Sybok said. "Tell me, how has the doctor been due to his visits?"  
  
"The doc?" Mallard said. He looked over his shoulder toward the closed doorway to the improvised sick bay then over toward Sybok. "The things he sees in here. . . He doesn't tell me what he sees. He just tells me they are worse than the one we save. And that  . ." He brielfy closed his eyes. "I sense his sadness. He performed a autospy on a child yesterday to be sure the cause of death and. . ." He leaned against the dishwasher, in pain, emotionally. He exhaled. "I am surprised he is still keeping it together."  
  
"I grieve with thee," Sybok said, placing a hand on the Andorian's shoulder.  
  
"At least it wasn't Saavik," Mallard said. "At least it wasn't her."  
  
"Saavik?" Sybok asked.  
  
"A little girl. Most of the survivors are concerned about her. A silent little girl," Mallard said. "I sense he is worried about her. But he is blocking me off right now, god, how he must be right now, restraining his emotions from overwhelming everyone."  
  
"He is likely doing it for your interests," Sybok said.  
  
"Yes," Mallard said. "You are right .  .  ." His eyes landed on the older Vulcan. "We have another bedroom quarter shell but it is in the dark and the lights went out twelve hours ago,"  Their eyes went toward Mallard's well lit bedroom then Sybok's eyes went toward the younger man.  "Mine only turns on when. . . oh shit, it's past my bed time."  
  
Mallard went past the Vulcan as the dishwasher lightly hummed. Sybok heard laughter coming from the other part of the underground shelter. He made his way from the machine until he came to what could be defined as the play room or the living rom. There  were chairs all around the small living room table. There was a taller table with what seemed to be curtians draped onto the side. He saw the children were gathered in front of it laughing. Sybok saw a long purple sock decorated and a blue sock that was also decorated slinked over the small, yet agile hands. Sybok did not feel tired at the slightest. The children were leaning onto each other.  
  
"Come alon', Pond," McCoy said, in a higher pitch voice. "The dinosaurs are comin'."  
  
"Doctor!" McCoy danced his other hand in a yet even higher, high pitched voice. "The dinosaurs are comin'---AND MY MAKE UP IS RUINED!"  
  
The children roared with laughter.  
  
"We will get to that, later," McCoy had lowered his voice. "Triceratops, one o'clock!"  
  
"Triceratops!" McCoy's sock puppets fled as a holographic small miniature triceratops passed on the stage.

The children were having fun. The adults were somewhere else within the underground shelter. Not that Sybok was sure where they were, he was sure they were around somewhere close by. He hadn't seen the adults since they left somewhere else down a darkened hall, or at least, he assumed that it was a hall. He couldn't be sure if it was some kind of invincible contraption that lead upstairs. He was half tempted to go up there himself to quell his rampaging thoughts about it. He was a naturally curious Vulcan but sometimes fear took over and he stepped back. The show was a entertaining. His brother and step mother would have adored it. But mostly it would be Amanda. Eventually, the children got up from the floor and the puppet show ended. The children were clapping their hands together as McCoy dipped out taking the sock puppets off.  
  
"T'Hinek!"  
  
"I love your performance of the doctor and Amelia Pond!"  
  
"Lovely play!"  
  
"Dinosaurs on a spaceship!"  
  
"That was awesome, T'Hinek!"  
  
"You make a good actor, T'Hinek."  
  
McCoy stepped aside.  
  
"Thank ya, thank ya, thank ya!" McCoy bowed, placing the puppets onto the counter. "Now, kids, it is time for you to hit the hay."  
  
"The hay?" one of the children said.  
  
"I don't want to hit the hay, T'Hinek," another child said.  
  
"Sleeping is very important part of Vulcan physiology," Sybok said. Their eyes turn toward him. "most Vulcans are known to sleep for three hours," The children backed away with wide, frightening eyes. "some rumors say Vulcans can stay up to two weeks without rest. Or even a month without eating."  
  
"That is true," McCoy admitted. Spock, desperately, trying to find the captain.  
  
"And Vulcans can die of exhaustion without rest," Sybok lowered down toward their level. "I am not a Romulan," Sybok gave the ta'al performing the Vulcan blessing to them. "shroy ishanai an'kharh wani."

"They don't know Vulcan," McCoy said. "They speak Romulan. Sorry for not tellin' you that earlier, Mr Sybok."

"Their parents did not teach them?" Sybok asked, appalled.

"In that environment with Romulans, who would teach them in fear of being struck?" McCoy said.

"Then they will learn," Sybok said.

"This man is S'chn T'gai Sybok," McCoy said. "son of a ambassador and a priestess."

"That marriage was annulled once she became a priestess," Sybok said.

"And that," McCoy said. "he is related to a cat."

"A cat?" The children said.

"Yes," McCoy said. "A small creature with pointy ears, four legs, and a tail. Soft with keen thin pupils. It likes to brush against your ankles, bite, chase after lights, sit in boxes, and they do purr. . . all the time." He looked  down toward the children then back up toward Sybok as their eyes landed on him. "Except he is related to a alien cat. Cats are much smaller. And they love hugs."

Their eyes were full of awe at the taller Vulcan.

"KITTEY!" The children crashed Sybok to the floor.

* * *

**.  . . Thirty-two minutes later. . .**

**. . . Outside the underground shelter. . .**

"How many people can your craft hold?" McCoy shouted, over the wind of the sand storm.  
  
"A little over thirteen," Sybok replied,looking over toward the human.  
  
"That is good enough!" McCoy replied, turning away.  
  
"How many colonists are there?" Sybok followed after the human.  
  
"Three hundred?" McCoy guessed. "Four hundred?"

"You do not count," Sybok said, sounding concerned with his voice raised so the doctor could hear him.

"I don't!" McCoy replied. "I leave enough for Romulans not to notice!"  
  
"I find it hard to believe that the Romulans would not notice missing children," Sybok replied.  
  
"They are only concerned about the adults," McCoy said. "Not the children."  
  
"Ah, I see," Sybok said.  
  
"Mr Sybok," McCoy said. "Have you heard of Pokeballs?"  
  
"Course,"  Sybok said. "Garzeni II."  
  
"I have two hundred thirty-three," McCoy said. "Mallard doesn't know how to fly a Vulcanian starship," They walked away from the craft.

"You want me to take them off planet in these pokeballs," Sybok said.

"Yes," McCoy replied. "It is better than not bein' able to lift off."

"Doctor," Sybok started, taking the doctor by the shoulder. "I did not expect you to take this risk. Are you all right?"

"You don't need to worry about me," McCoy said.

Sybok grew alarmed.  
  
 "You are considering what I believe you are considering," Sybok said.  
  
 McCoy's laughter was carried in the wind as they made their way toward the hide out.  
  
 "It is logical that they will catch me."  McCoy realized he was talking like Spock. It unnerved the physician but he was right. If he came back in one piece then it would be a miracle.  
  
 Sybok frowned.  
  
 "How would we know that you have been caught?" Sybok asked.  
  
 McCoy turned toward the Vulcan briefly then back in the direction that he was heading.  
  
"Trust the gut," McCoy said. "it works for us."  
  
 "This is a entirely different scenario where your life is on the line," Sybok said.  
  
 "Don't you think I know that?" McCoy said. "If we are lucky, you and Mallard will get the hell out off this plant. Safe and sound."  
  
"And you will not," Sybok said.  
  
"If it has to be that way then so be it," McCoy said. "I don't leave patients behind, Mr Sybok."  
  
"Doctor," Sybok caught up with the human, lightly placing his fingers onto the man's shoulder.  
  
"Yes?" McCoy said.  
  
"Do you have a death wish?" Sybok asked.  
  
"I am just keepin' my hopes up unlike y'all," McCoy said.  
  
"Rational. . . for  a human," Sybok acknowledged.  
  
"Thank you for the understanding, Sybok," McCoy said. "and oh, you are my brother in law."  
  
Sybok stood there, paused, in disbelief processing what the doctor had told him. He had been told that Jim was his brother's husband. But how could Spock and McCoy be married, let alone, bonded? Their personalities clashed together like a fierce storm. The stories that he heard about their away missions together without Captain Kirk. How were they compatible to be mates? It was not possible unable to realize that one has a---oh. Ooooh. Sybok understood. They were T'hy'la. The doctor did not have a death wish. It was obvious why he was the bait. They were bonded and shared a link together.  And just how did his brother not come to realize that? Was his brother as clueless about it? Sybok came after the human, confused, regarding the situation.  
  
"You must tell my brother," Sybok said.  
  
"I will," McCoy said. "just when it's appropiate."  
  
"So that is your bat signal?" Sybok asked.  
  
"Yes," McCoy said. "that is my Spock signal."  
  
"You could have avoided this and gone to Gor and told him," Sybok said.  
  
"And missed out saving the lives of colonists?" McCoy said. "No, I would have done this all over again at a heart beat."

Sybok considered it for a moment.  
  
"The stories I have heard about you are true," Sybok called after the doctor. "you hold your patients lives above yours."  
  
"Yes," McCoy said.  "you feel their pain and I see their pain. Makes a nice team."  
  
"Doctor," Sybok said. "I am always open to help you afterwards if I do make it. . . with the pain you have gained from your quest."  
  
"That is a generous offer," McCoy said. "I will consider it."  
  
"Also consider this," Sybok said. "if you die there is a possibility my brother will die."  
  
"Spock won't," McCoy said. "he will get a healer to repair his link or whatever they do."  
  
"You do not understand," Sybok said. "having T'hy'lara and losing so soon in three years. . ."  
  
"I can't say I will try," McCoy said. "I can't control my fate."

The doctor was right.  
  
No one could control their fate.  
  
Not even in the hands of entities, Klingons, and Romulans.  
  
But McCoy had lead himself here, and this easily could not have been fates hand but his own choice. That was the difference between the colonists and the doctor. They didn't choose to be left in horrid conditions. They did not choose to be fed little, tortured by Romulan officers, or deliberately killed. They did not choose to be settled into what can be defined as a large Gymnasium. They did not choose to be forced out of their living spaces and thrown into unsanitary conditions. They did not choose any of it. This was McCoy's choice. Sybok understood. Because now, McCoy's life was in fates hands. McCoy briefly closed his eyes then reopened them while thanking the stars that Jim wasn't there to see it. The man would have been driven by his determination to save everyone even if it would have risked his life. There was a small void in the doctor's heart. It ached in his chest. It wasn't xenopolycythemia that would make the victim slowly grow weak and lose vision while remaining in bed for days at a time. It was a heart ache.  The pain had become bearable to live with but never truly gone.  
  
Sybok's fingers were feeling that pain coming from the doctor.  
  
"Kaiidith," Sybok said.  
  
McCoy nodded.  
  
"Now let's get back to the shelter before it gets worse, Mr Sybok," McCoy said, going through the sandstorm. "Your ship passes my inspection!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised myself to make the next chapter as Sponesie as ever and as feels as ever and . . . I want Spones to be endgame so making them take the steps into having a relationship will start in the next chapter: well, actually, later in the last after a lot of shit happens. And dealing with the bond issue. So I think this story may end with 30k, possibly. AND IT WILL BE HELLA LONG AT THE END. You have been warned. :)


	5. Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ashalik means darling in Vulcan.

Altering his appearance, physically and genetically, was the easiest decision McCoy had made since Jim died. It was a hair raising irking decision that most Humans would not find themselves doing. McCoy held several devices in his hands that were rounded. Scotty had supplied them to the doctor before departing from the solar system to the mission that may as well be a death wish. This was his fifth  time coming in here for more survivors. There were plenty of them but the numbers were shrinking. He had been taking out ten at a time through a small device called a ‘pokeball’. It deviated from a alien species that Scotty had become friends with from the five year mission. The children had gone second. The parents had insisted the children go first in the beginning but there were some adults that needed medical attention stat. Saavik, Valeris, and a handful of other Romulan/Vulcan children were on the list. The pokeballs were rounded small, dark objects that had a comfortable, warm inside.

Saavik, Saavik, Saavik.

He liked the little girl. He may have been seeing a little of Joanna in her too much. True, McCoy had his regrets. Ones he made in the past. Joanna was his little girl with hazel eyes and brown hair. Joanna was someone he loved dearly. Jocelyn agreed with McCoy that their little girl was the only good thing that came out of their union. She was working around to becoming a doctor while in nursing. Saavik had long curly hair with eyes that showed her innocence and the will to live. Joanna, as a little girl, had a hair style that was reminiscent of her father only with wild hair bangs. She had a boyish hair style these days with her bangs chopped off. Valeris had a short bob cut that clung to her skin. Most of the colonists were thin. Too thin. Shades of dirt covering their bodies. McCoy had many choices in his life but leaving the children here, every time, left with the ten occupied small energized balls? Those were the worst. Star Fleet hadn’t bothered to liberate the colony. Not at all. They weren’t considering it far as the doctor was concerned. Mallard was more concerned about McCoy coming back.

“T’Hinek,” came a Romulan named Stuvok.

McCoy turned in the Romulans’s direction.

“Yes?” McCoy said.

“I have some questions regarding the calibracy of eliminating the stained,”  Stuvok was a short Romulan with big ears. “from the shirt you gave me earlier. . .” Stuvok looked down stammering, as his cheeks turned a shade of green, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I cannot seem to replicate your success.”

McCoy relaxed.

“Ah,” McCoy said. “Mr Stuvok, you have to use the DoveDryer chemicals.”

“I am sorry but I prefer not using the laundry dispensary,”  Stuvok shook his hand.

“It’s not laundry dispenser,” McCoy said. “this gets rid of every dirt in the fiber of your shirt. Like the laundry dispenser, though, it does not leave the shirt stained or ripped,” He paused. “You have been using the Ma’ca’Kalfree.”

“Yes,” Stuvok said. “my mother told me it cleaned everything.”

“In a pigs eye, it does!” McCoy said. “tell me. What else has she told you?”

“That humans are not to be advised on joining explorations into the jungle for they litter and they are terrible campers when it comes to sacred ground,” Stuvok said. “among other things.” McCoy had become good at restraining how he insulted he was when speaking with these people, and he let it the emotion pass by nodding.

“I have heard of it, too,” McCoy said. “and stories of some being forced to do nature service by cleaning the previous occupants mess up.”

“That is quite beneficial,” Stuvok said.

“Did you hear about those birds who make a unique nest?” McCoy said.

“No,” Stuvok said.

“It takes seven years for the males to mature,” McCoy said. “marrow, I believe, who choose bright colors. Sometimes, I have heard, the birds collect the smaller left overs and use it to their nest. They attack the clean up workers who try to clean up the mess. “

Stuvok laughed.

“Where did you hear that story?” Stuvok said.

“Back on Romulus,” McCoy said. “or maybe it was when  I went hiking on there with a squad of my childhood friends,” McCoy looked off into the distance. Stuvok looked in the direction that McCy was gazing then turned his head toward the doctor. “back when thin’s were more simpler.”

“They are still simpler,” Stuvok said.

“Not really,” McCoy said. “doing what I do. . . They are just children.”

“We all face that moral horizon,” Stuvok said. “We are no different from the humans.”

“True,” McCoy said, softly.

“And second,” Stuvok said. “we are merely here to ensure what is going on, continues, and log it accordingly.”

Cold, calculated reply.

“You sound like a Vulcan when you say it that way,” McCoy said.

“Some of us have to find ways to cope with what we see every day,”  Stuvok said. “The . . .” He briefly closed his eyes then reopened them. “We have made some mistakes to ensuring Star Fleet’s weaking through time travel,” his voice became small.  “some of which we will never talk about,”  His eyes met the doctor's baby blue eyes. “not even strangers.”

McCoy frowned.

“Are you calling me a Vulcan?” McCoy asked, as he bounced off the tips of his toes. “I was born on Romulus.”

“My apologies,  T’Hinek,” Stuvok said.

McCoy smiled at first but the smile faded.

"I am not a scientist but I am just the head counter,” McCoy said,and then he began to add bitterly. “or the mortician.”

McCoy felt a hand placed on his slender shoulder.  
  
" _I love you_ ," It sounded like Jim. " _Bones_." McCoy kept his composure.  
  
"Where would you be if this wasn't around?" Stuvok asked.  
  
"Serving the empire under Dion Charvanek," McCoy said. "or one of The Praetor's favorite starships." McCoy slightly waved his hand.  
  
"Someone like you would be best serving planet side," Stuvok said.  
  
"I don't deny that," McCoy said, with a bounce on his toes.  
  
The cold touch on McCoy's shoulder lifted allowing him to relax in front of Stuvok.

"It is unfortunate that you were assigned here, T'Hinek," Stuvok said. "but I thank you for clarifying the type of dispenser that you have used."  
  
McCoy barely gave a smile.  
  
"Jolan tru, Mr Stuvok," McCoy said.  
  
Stuvok nodded.  
  
"Jolan tru," Stuvok said, then he went right past the doctor.

McCoy could feel Jim's lingering presence around him. His hand felt like it was being squeezed by a invincible force. McCoy sighed to himself. Then McCoy said, "Jim, I need ya not to touch me for the next hour." allowing himself to slip out his accent. It was difficult to restrain himself from speaking in his southern accent. His mother, Eleanor, would be heart broken to see her little boy this way. McCoy briefly closed his eyes taking a sigh collecting himself together then exhaled. The weight he was feeling and the tension regarding what lay ahead fell off his shoulders. McCoy made his way down the hall heading in the direction of where the colonists. He felt Jim's presence lingering around him. Jim was not going to like it. McCoy hadn't felt Jim's presence since he had arrived onto this planet. Jim hadn't seen what Sybok and McCoy had seen countless times. Over and over again. It would  break someones spirit to see what hell McCoy and Sybok saw.

What Sybok had seen time and time again had yet to wear down on him. He was determined on helping others. Much like Spock was over doing his duties. The two men got their determination from Sarek, McCoy assumed, and their nature to raise the eyebrow must be genetic. The children viewed Sybok as a large, joyful Sehlat in the form of a human. A few of them still considered him a overgrown cat. The healer's spirit had not broken seeing a scenery of horrible catastrophic in terms of colonization being done wrong. McCoy came to a stop a few feet from the doors.  He leaned against the wall feeling sick inside. He knelt down briefly attempting to recompose himself. It was going to be worth it. Worth it. It was worth saving lives. He looked down toward the small miniature balls in his hand. McCoy had a regiment that was imposed on him by the captain of the extinquishing-the-colonization-efforts. He had to see the numbers once per morning. The stench was horrid. McCoy stood up leaning his side against it. Romulan Doctors did not have to deal with this, the doctor assumed, because the captain was picking on him. He was a newbie with a medical tricorder in one hand as the previous doctor assigned to the facility faced a unpleasant ending by the hand of a unknown source.

McCoy straightened himself and then walked forward right in the direction of the doors.  
  
The doors closed behind McCoy.  
  
McCoy came out an hour afterwards holding nothing in his hands. He jotted down a note onto a small padd that he brought in on the pocket side of the uniform. He lowered the padd with a resolved expression on his face then walked away. A bad feeling sunk into McCoy's gut. McCoy did not feel the touch of the ghost. He slowly made his way down the hall hearing his heart beat against his chest. Sweat started to come down his skin. There were Romulans here and there parked near doorways looking at McCoy strangely. McCoy let the images of the colonists he had helped flash in his mind. Did they finally find out he was the reson why the colonists were missing? Logically, that had to be an answer. He was doomed. Romulans were considerably smart. McCoy trusted the Vulcan and Andorian. All the people he helped flashed in his mind. The truth was, he was likely doomed right as he stepped into the building for the fifth time. The Romulans had concluded their investigation. But why drag it for so long and not just have arrested him in the first place.  
  
McCoy came into the morgue where on the slab of metal bed sat the captain.  
  
The equivalent of a Fleet Captain, Commander Istak.  
  
"Jolan tru, Doctor T'Hinek,"  Istak said, her green eyes flickering at the sight of the doctor.  "or whoever you are . . . or your aliases are. . . You have been running around pretending to be a doctor too long."  
  
McCoy was struck at the back where he collapsed to the floor landing onto his knees first and hands second.  
  
"You will face the capital punishment," Istak got off the slab then approached the doctor. "it is a crime to impersonate being a physician."  
  
_"Goodbye, my…my t’hy’la. This is the last time I will permit myself to think of you or even your name again."_ That was Spock's voice coming from his mind.  
  
No, he can't be too late.  
  
He was too late. 

McCoy had waited to long. McCoy felt pure horror.  Spock, half alive, half dead like a zombie. No feelings what so ever. He lost one friend and he was about to lose another. Everything that he had done. . . He should have let his cover be blown earlier. He then felt conviction. What he had done was right and he was going to have saved lives if Sybok and Mallard escaped before the Romulans got to them. He didn't know if Vulcans had such things as gut feelings. He didn't know if they believed in following the heart. Vulcans struck McCoy as logic driven species even their woman.  
  
"I'm a doctor, damn it, not a fraud," McCoy said, glaring back at Istak.  
  
"Tell us your real name--or if you even have one," Istak lowered herself down to his level. "you will be a great example."  
  
"Over my dead body," McCoy said.  
  
"Fine," Istak said. "then we will have one on of our on site Klingon facilities to find out who you are." McCoy decided, it was time. He lowered his mental shields. _Sorry, Spock,_ McCoy apologized, _I did not expect to end it like this. Oh, and we are soulmates. Jim needed some help satisfying you through your first pon farr._ And he raised the mental shields back up. "And where your accomplices lie."  
  
McCoy was struck by what felt like a low setting phaser and he was out like that laid onto the floor.

* * *

Spock stopped T'Sai with his hand.  
  
_Doctor?_ , Spock called.  
  
There was nothing.

 _Doctor_ , Spock called again, _why did Jim not tell me?_  
  
Absolutely nothing.  
  
_Leonard?_ , Spock called back as he looked toward T'Sai.

There was no reply as the Vulcan lowered his hand while perplexed.  
  
"Spock,your thoughts," T'Sai requested. "open them to me."

This link communication was concerning, and also, unsettling.

It made sense why he had been getting sudden feelings during his kolinahr training. Alien, mostly feelings that were heavy. It was sorrow. A kind of sorrow that came from seeing what no one would like. Spock determined that so because there were times the feelings made him want to cry, but he was in control of his emotions and his emotions were not in control of him. T'Sai placed her hand on the side of the man's face. They were coming from Leonard. Why did Jim not tell him this?  It made sense why the bond was still there but. . . it was thin, delicate, like a tree sapling. T'Sai unlifted the mental barrier. Suddenly, there was a heavy force kareening and highly destructive as though someone was looking around, searching, without any mind meld training what so ever. There were thoughts that were not Spock's own, or who he had bonded himself to, that were more so of: who is this fraud, why come to hellguard, and what is their mission. The name sent chills down T'Sai's skin as she recognized the name.  T'Sai dissolved the link, carefully, while raising Spock's mental barriers. There was no placement of the link in the Vulcan's mind but other than that, she could sense concern.

"Your answers lie elsewhere," T'Sai said. "it lies on Hellguard."

T'Sai dropped the necklace turning away from the hybrid as realization struck Spock like a Sehlat crashing upon him.  
  
That is where his brother was.

* * *

A bad feeling rested into Mallard's gut when he couldn't feel the doctors feelings anymore.  
  
They had to go.  
  
"Mr Sybok!" Mallard called, arriving into sick bay.  
  
Sybok had completed a mind meld, looking over in the direction of the panicked Andorian.  The young Romulan woman was in a pair of matching attire, one gray shirt, one gray pair of pants, and gray socks that reached to her ankle. The turtle neck aspect was high just as it was for many of the colonists. The attire was chosen due to it being culturally neutral. But also because it had Vulcanian calligraphy on it reading "survive" labeled on the backside. None of the Romulans could read it save for the Vulcans. Romulan calligraphy was different, considerably, as it had deviated and changed over the course of years into a mess but unique writing system. The men in the attire had Vulcan calligraphy on the front. T'Tumak wore a shirt that had a writing system made of circles and lines placed on the front. It was a extra pair of attire that Sybok picked up as a bonus. Rumored to be Gallifrayian, a long lost civilization that meddled in time, a rare language to come by.  
  
"Yes, Mallard?" Sybok said.  
  
"I can't sense the doc," Mallard said.

Sybok's eyes landed on the large collection of balls laid on the table then grazed over toward the Andorian with panic in his eyes.  
  
"Get the others," Sybok said, picking up a blackball and clicking on the center button. "you need to evacuate."

Mallard rushed out of sick bay nearly slipping onto his knees. He came into the living room with his heart pounding against his chest. The children and adults were watching holovids when he skidded in. He grabbed onto the back of the couch and fell onto the floor landing on his back. The men and women looked over in the direction of the fallen Andorian to notice something was amiss, his facial expression practically screamed it. The children were focused on the educational programming blaring off the screen.

"Get to sick bay," Mallard said. "we are going to evacuate." The colonists got up. T'Tumak turned the holovid off. "Go, quickly!"

"What about Doctor T'Hinek?" One of the adults asked.  
  
"The doc can't come right now," Mallard said. "he will be with us, afterwards."  
  
"I want Doctor T'Hinek!" The shortest child, Mika, said.  
  
"Where is Doctor T'Hinek?" The second tallest preteen, Taren, said.  
  
"He is at the bad place," T'Tumak said.  
  
"Not him," Taren said.  
  
"I like him," the second shortest, Survik, said.  
  
"As do I," T'Tumak admitted.  
  
The large group returned into sick bay where Sybok had activated the large balls, all of them, only forty of them.  
  
"You will be coming with me," Sybok said, handing the balls to the adults.  
  
"I will stay behind," Mallard said.  
  
"That is illogical of you," Sybok said. "I am not leaving without you."  
  
"But I can be a dead end for them," Mallard said, as T'Tumak pressed the center tossing it into the air.  
  
T'Tumak vanished in a red shade of energy going into the ball.

Sybok caught the ball into his hand placing it into the bag.  
  
"That is still illogical of you," Sybok said. "and a death wish. They will not be as lenient on you than they are on the doctor." He met the man's eyes. "and they will likely use a forbidden form of mind meld to find out the other accomplice."  
  
"When they do find out, I will be dead," Mallard said.  
  
"You don't need to stay," Sybok said while Mallard helped placing the balls into the bag. "logically, when we leave this facility, they will be at a dead end and then they will kill. . ." Sybok paused, briefly, staring back at the young man. "You are buying time for Star Fleet to save him."  
  
Mallard nodded.  
  
"I rather die saving another life than nothing at all," Mallard said.

Sybok nodded.  
  
"Understood,"  Sybok said.  
  
"Are we going to see Doctor T'Hinek again?" Mika asked.

"I am sure we will, Mika," Mika's adopted mother figure, T'Syal, said, one hand on the black girls shoulder.

"I am scared,"  Mika said.

"Don't be," T'Syal said. "I am not scared." Sybok handed T'Syal the pokeball.  
  
Mallard knelt down to the child's level.  
  
"I am pretty sure you will,"  Mallard took a small ball with a label on it that appeared to be a butterfly.

In a red flash of light the child vanished. Eventually, after a flood of red light, the only people left in the lab were Sybok and Mallard. A part of Sybok was tempted to nerve pinch Mallard and used a spare ball left on the table. He liked the young man but he respected the man's sacrifice. The Romulans would be too busy trying to pry information out of the Andorian that continuing what they were doing on the doctor would be on the side burner. Mallard flipped a switch along the wall. Sybok heard the sounds of electrical fireworks and metal being bend, struck, and removed. The door to sick bay closed behind the two men. Sybok was in the robes that he came in to the building in the first place.

"The storm has died down since this morning," Mallard said.  
  
"An excellent time to escape," Sybok said. "a part of me doubts the sand has not buried my ship."  
  
"It won't," Mallard said, taking out a lawn chair. He placed it  across from the doorway. "Vulcan air craft are built for this kind of event. Remember the story about the Vulcan craft discovered in the Sahara? The sand fell off it instead of keeping it down. Sand is not a cube pit."

"What is a cube pit?" Sybok asked.  
  
"Squishy, soft hell," Mallard said. "used to be in gymnastics. Loved 'em."  
  
"It sounds comfortable," Sybok said, going to the door.  
  
"It isn't for people with claustrophobia," Mallard said. The Vulcan turned toward the young man. He gave the ta'al sign. "Live long and prosper."  
  
"Peace and long life," Sybok replied.

The door to the shelter opened, and out Sybok went. Mallard lowered his hand to his side then came over to a panel hooked into the wall. He opened the door to the panel, carefully. He pressed a few buttons. They were not going to leave any trace of the survivors. Not one. That had been decided while Mallard was doing the editing when McCoy was away. It was Mallard's idea to chose the name T'Hinek. McCoy liked it even though he had no idea what it meant.  He closed the panel door once he hit the buttons. The shelter shook and trembled. Mallard came over to the lawn chair then sat down into it. The room where McCoy once slept in, often times surrounded by children who couldn't fall asleep on their own. The pink quarters the Andorian slept in usually was burned to the crisp, burned, and torn apart. The pink fabric was covered shoot, dust, and burn marks. The quarters Sybok slept in was given the same treatment. The young Andorian whistled to himself while taking a book out from the dark and proceeded to read. 

* * *

_Spock sat in front of a mirror where there was a hair cut kit alongside his arm._  
  
McCoy slowly regained consciousness feeling a terrible head ache in his head. Cross that out.  It felt his head was on fire. It burned so bad, the ache, and the pain in his mind was awful. He briefly closed his eye. So the first day before he got on aboard the USS Enterprise, someone drugged him and left him somewhere? That was a terrible way of beginning what might be a great start in space. His eyes started to open feeling like his eye lids were heavy. He noticed pain coming from the sides of his face and his back had a throbbing pain. He wasn't in a quarters but in a dark room. It was pitch black. A part of him felt like he was being hostage. Which could be the case. But perhaps not. Star Fleet officers had the risks of being abducted like any other person. Or it was some kind of prank being pulled by a bunch of medical officers on Starbase 1. However, McCoy got the distinctive feeling that it was not the case.  
  
_Spock picked up the tweezers._  
  
Where the hell was he?  
  
_Spock took the furry aspects of the eyebrows out to make them thin._  
  
What in tarnation was going on?  
  
"What is this fraud's real name?" Came a woman's voice. A name floated in his head _, Istak_.  
  
McCoy's eyes squint to see a couple figures ahead of him.  
  
"Go to hell," Mallard said. "I am not ratting out the doc."  
  
"You refuse to tell us where the colonists have been taken to," Istak said.  "this is a easy question."  
  
"I refuse," Mallard said.  
  
McCoy noticed that he was bound to a chair.  
  
_Spock picked up a small case and a little black brush._  
  
"You are not making this easy for me," Istak said. "I need his name."  
  
"You can kiss my ass," Mallard said. "you are gonna kill him if I tell you."  
  
"True," Istak said. "but he can't die with a Vulcan name. Doctor T'hinek does not fit him."  
  
"Yes, it does," Mallard said.  
  
_So am I undercover and Lieutenant Commander Spock gave me that name?_ , McCoy thought as he was sitting there terrified. His wrists were aching. Something hard and smooth but pressing hard against his hand. Someone was deliberately torturing him. The only reason why he wouldn't remember the first meeting with Captain Kirk and Mr Spock is if he had a concussion. Which made sense. He felt a void in his heart. The void from killing his father out of mercy but it was deeper than it was before. The pain was lighter than the one he had experienced and the pain was never this light. What had he lost? And was this young man a security officer? Or was it the Captain? Captain  James T. Kirk  did not strike McCoy as the kind to swear on missions. The captain sounded like one of those captains who meant well and followed the rules.

 _Spock carefully applied misty black eyeliner._  
  
"You are making it difficult for me," Istak said.  
  
"Good," Mallard said. "at least I am succeeding at my part of the mission."  
  
"So Star Fleet did send you!" Istak shouted.  
  
"Nope," Mallard said. "we are rogue civilians working in the best interest of patients."  
  
There was a loud, hard smack.  
  
"Liar," Istak said.  
  
"I said this once, eight hours ago, with your previous interrogator," Mallard said.  
  
"Yes," Istak said. "and you will tell me his name."  
  
_Spock carefully picked up the scissors._  
  
"Over my dead body," Mallard said. "the doc is the best man I known ever known. I wouldn't put him under the bus."  
  
"If we we put his  hands out of work, would you tell me?" Istak asked.  
  
"Not a chance,"  Mallard said.

The pressure became strainous on his hands as a loud crack was heard.  
  
McCoy screamed, feeling tears roll down his cheeks.  
  
McCoy realized he was blindfolded as he attempted to lean forward in the direction of his legs.  
  
What kind of sick people were doing this?  
  
"What about his life?" Istak asked. "Are you willing to let him wither in pain?"  
  
"I'll tell you his name," Mallard said.  
  
"What is it," Istak said.  
  
"Kodos," Mallard said.  
  
Istak screeched  and the next McCoy heard was a thud.  
  
_Pieces of Spock's long hair fell to the floor._  
  
It was a hard thud.  
  
_Spock was trimming his bangs._  
  
"Ow," Mallard said.  
  
"S'Chess, S'Chev, take  him to Stuvok and let him conduct the torture further," Istak said. "if he does not speak of the fraud's name then he has my permission to kill the man through the mind meld."  
  
_Hold on, doc,_ McCoy heard  what sounded to be the young man in his mind.

McCoy found himself back on the grass in Georgia watching the blue sky and the clouds passing by him. McCoy had his hands behind his head feeling the wind brush against his face. He felt calm and at peace. Whatever was really happening outside could wait to be acknowledged. He was a doctor, not a knowledge-less hostage. McCoy looked over to see a figure sitting alongside him with hazel eyes and golden hair in blue jeans and in a black and red plad polo. The young man had boots on. His eyes was trained on what was up ahead mostly consisting of a lake surrounded by trees, a hill side with rocks, and a fence built around it leading to a series of houses. There were back yards with various sets of material set about such as swings, pools, plants, trees, toys, and some of them had nothing just a green grass.  
  
"Fancy to see ya here," McCoy said.  
  
"It is . . .  always good . . . . to see . . . you too, Bones," Jim said, dramatically in a staccato style.  
  
The man looked over toward the doctor wearing a small smile on his face--and it was looking into the sun except his vision was clouded by bright circles for staring at it too long. His skin pink and youthful. He looked a lot like the profile picture of the captain he was supposed to be assigned under. His heart ached at the sight of the young man.  McCoy leaned forward placing one hand on the grass and the other on his knee raising one of his eyebrows back. Bones? Why did he call him Bones? His mind wondered over to a old word used a long time ago when hate and independence was being fought over. Sawbones, a phrase he hadn't heard since his time at the academy.  
  
"Have we met?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Yes," Jim said.  
  
"When?" McCoy asked.  
  
Jim grew a long, sad facial expression.  
  
"You . . . don't . . . remember," Jim said, sadly.  
  
"Not at all," McCoy said. He could sense that it was devastating.  
  
"You are not dead," Jim said. "If that is what you are thinking," Jim fluttered his eyebrows, flirtatiously. "you are in . . .  your happy place."  
  
"Figures," McCoy said.  
  
"Yes, figures," Jim said. "a place . . . . like this? You . . . don't . . . get to . . . feel pain."  
  
"Are you a figment of my imagination?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Not . . . entirely," Jim said.  
  
"How so?" McCoy asked.  
  
"I . . . am . . . . dead," Jim said.  
  
"Oh really," McCoy said, in disbelief.  
  
"Yes, really," Jim said. "and . . . it was . . . painless."  
  
"Oh well, that is comfortin'," McCoy said.

"Not t me it is," Jim said. "we can not speak with each other, we can not touch each other, no one can  . . .see me. it is like I am . . . . in hell."

"I am sorry, kid," McCoy said.

Jim sighed.

"I miss being . . . alive," Jim said, as McCoy had a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Some people I know would envy you for that," McCoy said. "no hunger, no need to be bothered, or be hurt .  . . Say, how well did we know each other?"  
  
"We knew each other . . .  intimately," Jim said.  
  
"How intimately?" McCoy asked, letting of of the man's shoulder.  
  
"We were partners . . ." Jim said. "but you broke it off . . . . after I was bonded."  
  
"Ah, telepathic marriage," McCoy said.  
  
"Yes," Jim said.  
  
"I can see why I ended it,"  McCoy said.  
  
"But that doesn't mean . . . . I stopped loving you," Jim said. "not for one minute."  
  
"Is this your way of asking me out to wherever you are?" McCoy waved his hand.

Jim laughed, shaking his head, in a way that sounded like laughing at something ridiculous.

"Bones, you lost . . . a lot . . . of memory," Jim  said.  "I am just filling you in . . . on what  . . you don't remember."

"So you are my memories?" McCoy asked.  
  
"No, Bones, I am . . . a ghost," Jim said, with a bemused laugh. "I . . . am . . . Captain Kirk."  
  
McCoy felt his face become hot.  
  
"I dated a young man and got into a relationship with my superior officer," McCoy said.  "I don't believe you."  
  
"Not believe . . . long as you want," Jim said. "I am here."

"All right, _Captain_ ," McCoy said.

"Call me Jim," Jim said.

"Okay, Jim," McCoy said. "Why are you still here?" He glared back at the captain. "Go enjoy your afterlife!" He waved a hand dismissively. "Go, shoo!"

"I love you," Jim said.

"That doesn't count," McCoy said.

"It does," Jim argued. "I may not have a heart . . . but  . . . this is where I belong."

"Does not," McCoy said. "And you don't belong here."

"Of course, I do," Jim said. "some one has to be there when you actually die."

"Are ya implyin' you are gonna be at my death bed?" McCoy asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"You will be confused . . .  after you die," Jim said.

"Standard for sudden death why it is possible," McCoy said.

"Which makes me . . . a pretty good . . . . bystander," Jim said. "always good to have a familiar face . . . . to greet you."

"To be my guardian angel?" McCoy asked.

"I am not a angel," Jim said.

"Then what are you?" McCoy asked.

"A ghost . . .  with . . .  unfinished business," Jim said.

"I am not your unfinished business," McCoy said.

"That, you are not," Jim agreed. "I . . . left . . .  too soon."

"Pretty rational," McCoy said. "some ghosts are known not to leave the plane of the livin' because their death was traumatic."

Jim was staring at the doctor.

"You are right," Jim said. "my death.  . . Spock tried, too, to prevent it. . . He always did. .  and you did your best to keep him from going down with me. I want you to know that. . . there was no other way you could have known what was going to happen to me."  
  
McCoy turned his attention back.  
  
"Oh," McCoy said. "here I thought I failed as a doctor."

"You never failed on me under my command," Jim said.  
  
"Not surprisin' for a miracle worker," McCoy said.  
  
"You were always part of the miracle," Jim agreed.  
  
"There were others, I am sure of that, who helped made sure you were in safe hands," McCoy said.  
  
Jim was laid on his side looking at McCoy in a loving manner while combing his hands through the grass.  
  
"Since I am dead and all," Jim said. "how about a kiss for good luck that you will get out here sane?"  
  
"Uh, no," McCoy said. "Jim, I am your doctor, damn it, not your spouse."  
  
Jim wiggled his eyebrows.  
  
"Who says the dead remained married?" Jim asked.  
  
McCoy paused.  
  
"I don't feel comfortable making out with a man I barely know," McCoy said.  
  
Jim took the man by the shoulders then planted a kiss on the man's lips. Jim backed off looking at the doctor with hope swirling in his eyes. As brief as the kiss was, it was warm and familiar. A memory had jolted back to the doctor. They had done this before. Except his back was pressed against the wall and his legs felt like they were wrapped around a waist and warm hands under his shirt. His hands laid on the man's shoulder blades. his mind on fire with testosterone. Feeling the man's soft, gentle skin. The electricity sizzling between them in the hot, steamy moment. A private, intimate moment. It felt more like they had done it in a private room.  
  
"Do you remember this?" Jim asked, softly.  
  
McCoy looked at the man clutching at the fabric of the man's shirt.  
  
"It feels familiar," McCoy said. McCoy looked up and down the man observing him. "you feel so real."  
  
Jim smiled down at the doctor as his free hand went down to the man's pants.  
  
"That is because _it is_ real," Jim said, then he kissed along the man's neck.  
  
McCoy's back met the grass.  
  
"I am here,"Jim said. "I am not going to leave you,"  His hand slid under the man's briefs. "stay with me."  
  
McCoy moaned.  
  
"Damn it, Jim, you are too sweet for me," McCoy complained.  
  
Jim smiled, softly kissing along the man's neck.  
  
"Don't I know it," Jim said.

* * *

Our scene panned over into space where the Enterprise was in orbit above Vulcan. The Enterprise appeared to be unchanged, frozen in time, but different by the inside. The sounds of the bridge were heard. Our view flew toward the saucer section past the  nacelles right inside to a vast differently bridge that was themed a light shade of gray from the walls to the ceiling. The floor was black, pure black, with black railings supported by light gray poles. The chairs soft, and cushiony, while being a light shade of brown. There were officers at their stations including Ilia at the navigation station. Along side the Deltan sat at the helmsmen seat was Hikaru Sulu who had a photograph tucked along the edge of his console being of a Asian man.

"Mr Xon," Pavel said, coming over to the young Vulcan.  Xon turned slightly from his station placing his hands onto his lap. "say, vhat is it like being a Wulcan Professor at the Wulcan Academy of Science?"  
  
Xon looked up toward the Russian.  
  
"Being a Vulcanian professor requires knowledge and patience," Xon said. "The children are normally in their study holes. If anything, it is commonly like it is for any cultural: efficient, and thorough. Not at all different."  
  
"Vere you in one?" Pavel asked.  
  
"I thrived under it," Xon said.  
  
"I didn't take Wulcan's to study in holes," Pavel said. "interesting."  
  
"Is there any more questions that you have for me, Mr Chekov?" Xon said.  
  
"Yes," Pavel said.  "are you a fan of Mr Spock?"  
  
"It is a impressive feat to serve with humans for thirteen years," Xon said. "dealing with their emotional out busts, being bonded to one, and understanding how their emotional cultural is. . . it is ideally impressive. I wish to blend in smoothly under the command of Captain Decker."  
  
"Blend in?" Pavel said. "you don't need to blend in."  
  
"Yes, I do," Xon said. "or else I insult my fellow crewmates when  I do not intend."  
  
"Xon, you are going to be fine," Pavel said. "If anything you vill have insulted a few alien willains here and there."

"Not every alien race is a villain," Xon said.  
  
Pavel nodded.  
  
"I mean the sentient machines," Pavel said. "sometimes we kall them the big bad, the big deed, the big breeder due to their tendency to refer to our krew women as breeding objects, and the big 'kray-kray'."  
  
"Cray cray?" Xon said.  
  
"Krazy," Pavel said.  
  
"So what if I said one of the crewmen are cray cray?" Xon asked.  
  
"That vould be inappropriate and demeaning," Pavel said.  
  
"Give me the correct example," Xon said.  
  
"Aru over there is kray kray over his husband Ben," Pavel pointed over his shoulder. "that is a positive  usage, korrectly, regarding its use," Xon's eyes drifted toward the Russian. "we may not fear words from others but some still sting."  
  
"Like slut?" Xon said.  
  
"I am a major slut for kotten kandy," Pavel said.  
  
Xon raised his eyebrow at first in sheer surprise  then shook his head.  
  
"I will make sure to use it," Xon said.  
  
"Just not on duty," Pavel said. "we use those words off duty."  
  
Xon nodded his head.  
  
"Understood, Lieutenant Chekov," Xon said.

"You are a enlightening Wulcan, Mr Xon," Pavel said. "I look forward to serving with you in this new five year mission."  
  
"As do I," Xon said.  
  
Pavel turned away from the Vulcan. Xon was a young Vulcan male with curly brown hair and light blue eyes that were soft to look at. They were in the new uniforms which consisted of jackets with the colors of their career track: blue, gold, and red. They had standard white shirts underneath them. And black pants with the line at the side. Some female officers wore skirts. They had long sleeves to the uniforms. They wore black boots. Nyota  was at the communication's station.  The doors smoothly opened. In walked in a familiar person. Pavel's role model. The Vulcan who he had always looked up toward as an Ensign aboard the Enterprise. Didn't all ensigns look up toward the Vulcan? Spock was the role model who left abruptly and never returned, until now.  
  
"Mr Spock!" Pavel stopped, half in shock, from his station to see the Vulcan appearing too rigid and. . . there was a dull, depressing glow about him. The only thing that reminded the Russian of him being the Mr Spock was the face. The cheeks that stood out, the stare that could easily become a stare, and the arms behind his back military pose.  He looked ten years older even though it had been a little over three years since the Vulcan's departure from the Enterprise. "It is good to see you again."

The captain's chair lay ahead of Spock. Spock could vividly picture Jim turning toward him, bracing himself against the rail, calling "Spock!" using the rail to prevent himself from going out and embracing the man. The only thing that would have divided Spock from Jim would have been that rail. All self control would have been otherwise gone. The chair was a bitter, heavy reminder of what  Spock had lost. _T'hy'la!_ , Spock inwardly groaned.  He was assaulted with familiar, bubbling emotions washing down upon him. Spock restrained himself from expressing the emotions on the bridge. His attempts to subdue the pain of his T'hy'la's loss had been futile. His human half had only hidden during the long hours of meditation.  He could vividly picture Jim with brown curly hair and aged well. Spock had not fully grieved well as it seemed.  
  
Nyota turned from her station in the direction of the Vulcan as all eyes were on him.  
  
"Mr Spock," Nyota said, well pleased to see him again. "welcome back."  
  
"I wish if we had met again on better circumstances, Mr Chekov, Mrs  Uhura," Spock said. His voice laced in no emotions. Lacking the familiar warmth that the crew were more familiar to.  He came toward the chair. "set course for Hellgaurd."  
  
Spock felt a sensitive touch to his fingers as a single thought was carried to him, _Taluhk nash-veh k'du, ashalik_.  
  
Spock sat down into the captain's chair.

"Enterprise here," Nyota said, with the communicator device in her ear.  
  
"Arrest Mr Spock for Shanghi Nooning me," Decker said.  
  
"Pardon me?" Nyota asked.  
  
"I am being sent to Starbase Yorktown aboard the SS T'Kashi for whatever bull shit he pulled," Decker said. "pardon my language but this Vucan has gone too far in stealing my crew and my ship."  
  
"I am sorry, can't hear you over your the ion storm--sorry--captain--where--" Nyota terminated the call as the starship leaped into warp.

* * *

Stuvok looked down upon the lifeless Andorian body laid upon the floor with eyes open and a disturbing smile on his face. Stuvok would never forget what he had seen. Never. Never in his lifetime. There was a good chance he will never forget the disturbing scene and it will haunt him until his dying days. He took out a phaser and aimed at the blue body.  He pressed the trigger. All that was left of the body was a dark scorch mark on the gray floor. The remaining survivors were being quarantined but not without some security officers being ravaged and dug at by  the women than the men. It was a intriguing discovery to see women were the more aggressive than the men.  
  
Stuvok did not wish to see the fall out.  
  
Star Fleet coming  in, or, worse, the Klingon Empire.  
  
The Andorian had given little information to the  Romulan except. . .  
  
For one tiny, incy bincy fact.  
  
"Mr Stuvok," S'Chess said, entering the small quarters.  
  
Stuvok turned in the security officer's direction.  
  
"Jolan tru," Stuvok said.  
  
"Did you find out the fraud's name?" S'Chess inquired.  
  
"He served on the Enterprise," Stuvok said. "I am not sure if he is a fraud at all."  
  
"Why?" S'Chess said.  
  
"How else would the colonists be treated,"  Stuvok said. "they need a doctor . . ."  
  
"Not a fraud," S'Chess finished. "your service has been beneficiary, it is a shame you won't stay to continue it."  
  
"I do not believe my stay is warranted," Stuvok told the woman.  
  
"Jolan tru," S'Chess said.

"Jolan tru," Stuvok replied, with a nod.  
  
S'Chess turned away then exited the room. Stuvok was not able to handle what he was seeing. He was going to make the life changing decision. Stuvok had told his colleagues that he would be committing an act of honor preservation, when in reality, he was going to defect out of the Romulan Empire with his family. He placed the phaser onto the table then sat down into the chair. He had seen the doctor's previous state before beginning his interrogation with the Andorian. The Andorian had shown the Romulan what state he was in. And it disgusted him. Stuvok combed through his hair. He  had to get off the planet. Immediately. He was trembling. He came to a book shelf. He shoved the bookshelf aside to reveal a medium sized door. He tapped on the small screen.  
  
The two doors rotated away to reveal a cock pit and screens that revealed the floral life growing over the small but cloaked shuttle craft. He looked back into the dark room and scanned for the belongings that he should take. He had nothing of value except for his family. The craft was large enough to carry a family of four. It would have to do. His pregnant mate and two little boys. They shouldn't have to face what hell is going  to be struck at the empire for torturing a former star fleet officer. He had  hacked into star fleet files to see the roster of who had been on  it years ago. He went inside the cloaked shuttle craft and the doors closed behind him.  He sat down into the seat. Our scene panned away from the inside of the quarters to Istak's office. She was  filling out paper work on a small padd. S'Chess entered the room with her colleague S'Chev by her side. S'Chev was shorter than S'Chess. The room was dully colored.

Istak looked up from the padd.  
  
"Report," Istak said.  
  
"We have an former officer from the USS Enterprise in our custody," S'Chess said.  
  
"The USS Enterprise?" Istak repeated.  
  
"Affirmative, Commander," S'Chev said.  
  
"Excellent," Istak said.  
  
"Captain," S'Chess said. "if there were more accomplices, then the Enterprise will be coming here."  
  
"Let them," Istak said. "the Empire will triumph their democratic defense."  
  
"It will start a needless war," S'Chev said. "I advise that we let the fraud be."  
  
"Needless?" Istak said. "The Praetor will not think so."  
  
"You have not heard the  stories of those who had tried and failed to start a war with Star Fleet," S'Chess said. "unity is their strength."

"Our strength is drawing their nasty side out," Istak said. "and show how not so different they are to us," She looked over toward S'Chess. "You are dismissed, Centurion S'Chess," S'Chess shared  a glance with S'Chev then  went out of the room. "Sub-Commander, what were you thinking being against me like that?"  
  
"The Praetor would not like the loss of exceptional officers like us," S'Chev said. "as our counterparts say: it is illogical and senseless."  
  
"Not to me." Istak stood up then walked around toward the taller woman.

"As sub-commander of these Romulan officers," S'Chev said.  "I am obligated to ensure we represent our empire and protect our dignity."  
  
"And you think I am taking away your dignity?"  Istak asked.  
  
"K'Hathen, our dispatched Klingon, is considering Hegh'bat," S'Chev said. "apparently, this officer was a honorable well known individual in the Klingon territory."  
  
"Haven't heard any former officers going around helping Klingns in the quadrant," Istak said.  
  
"He brought dishonor to his house by what he had done," S'Chev said. "If that doesn't speak volumes regarding dignity then I don't know how else to say it."  
  
"I will speak to him--" Istak started to say.  
  
"You will not speak to my officer,"  S'Chev said, cutting off the commander. "I have given him my expressed permission."  
  
Istak frowned back.  
  
"I can speak to him as I wish,"  Istak said.  
  
"I find that difficult for you to do as he is in Sto-vo-kor," S'Chev said. "he committed earlier after the doctor was taken from his charge with my attendance," She gripped the edge of her wrist, painfully. The Klingon wiping his blood on his sleeve as the Romulan held his free hand while trembling watching the life vanish from his eyes. She was not his biological sister so she was not worthy to be the one to kill him. "I am unhappy how it turned out."  
  
"You are compromised," Istak said, taking out her weapon.  
  
"As are you," S'Chev said. "I rather be under the command of Charvanek than you."  
  
"Say hello to K'Hathen for me," Istak said.

"I cannot join in his heaven as I am not a warrior," S'Chev said.

"That is my point," Istak said, raising the phaser.  
  
Istak fired at the sub commander with the setting on high.  
  
Within a bright shimmer of light, S'Chev was no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW.
> 
> THE RESCUE AND THE SPONES RESOLVES NEXT CHAPTER, HOPEFULLY, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW ANNOYED I AM AT THIS.


	6. Reassure

S'Chess knew when she heard the shot of a phaser go off from Istak's office that S'Chev was terminated. Istak would not go easily but anyone around her would be the first to go. She waited outside until she came back out appearing to be convinced of some undeniable fact that was going to be true. Which, at all, was fall. Only Nixon went to China. Only a fool goes into the dark distance. S'Chess feared their commander had become a fool. A mad one in fact. She understood the mob lyrics better than before as of this moment from The Beauty and the Beast, the live action movie from the 21st century, that was highly pirated in the empire. 

Istak faced the Romulan Centurion. 

"You are now a sub-commander," was all Istak said. 

"It is my honor," S'Chess said.

"You are to inform the others of this," Istak said. "and make sure they know what happens to those considering."

"I will be sure to remind them," S'Chess said. A smile danced on Istak's face. 

"Excellent," Istak said, going past the woman back into her office. 

S'Chev should be the one commanding the others not S'Chess. She was the one who rallied others around her. She had this touch about her. S'Chev and S'Chess were best friends in their childhood. They had swore to each other to serve on the same assignments and have each others backs. What was the point of choosing someone who did not get along with everyone? Istak had the reports of the numerous conflicts that resulted in the cafeteria. S'Chess had different ideals than the other men and women. Not because Romulans were known as the noseless even when they did have noses,  but she did not have the courage to rebel against the commander. Sure the commander was mad. But that would be rebelling against the empire. The empire had left a void lingering inside. A part of her heart felt like it was dead. S'Chess straightened herself up. 

She would be tall in the memory of her friend. 

At least in public.

Where no one can see just how destroyed hearing the death of her companion was.

S'Chess walked away from the doorway acting on autopilot. She brushed past by security personnel, not showing a sign of emotion on her face, not a tremble not a shake. She exited her way into her quarters where the door closed behind her. Her back met the wall as tears started to force themselves out of her eyes. She lowered her head and weeped into her hands. Clear, transparent tears rolled down her dark cheeks landing into the palms of her hands. This should never have happened. The commander was incompetent of command. A sound, reasonable commander would never start a war in this manner. Her best friend in the quadrant was gone and she was under the command of a murderer. She raised her head back up with blood shot eyes reeling herself back up onto her feet. 

She took her golden helmet off then placed it onto the table. 

S'Chess sat down at the desk in a chair.

It felt like the strength she had to face the rest of the crew was gone.

She was miserable.

She needed an hour, at most, alone before going to facing the rest. To inform them that she was not a centurion. She was their sub-commander. The one who had faith and loyalty in her by the rest of the crew. What she did not have at all. She did have others who liked to hang out with her and be her friend but being under command was a entirely different story. She took out a holophotograph of her and S'Chev as little girls together. Her older brother had taken it. The door slid open to reveal two other comrades, Bete and Potax. The doors closed behind the two. They took their helmets off revealing their dark curled hair that had a bowl shaped hair cut similar to the Vulcans. Botax had a long chin while Potax had a short chin and a athletic body. The two had their helmets tucked under their arms. They were Lieutenants. 

"Are you okay, Chesss?" Bete asked. 

"I am not well. . ." S'Chess said. "and your new sub-commander."

"What?" Potax asked, coming to her side. Potax was joined by Bete. "What happened to S'Chev?"

"Friendly fire," S'Chess said.

"Tushah nash-veh k'du," Potax said. 

S'Chess looked up toward Potax. 

"What was that?" S'Chess asked. 

"Vulcan," Potax said. 

"Just the essential Vulcan phrases," Bete said. "otherwise, having to speak in it, well," the two dark women shared a glance with each other then back to the sitting sub-commander. "that is another story for another time."

"You are. . . defecting?" S'Chess asked. 

"Us?" Potax said, in disbelief. The idea was unsettling. 

"No," Bete said. 

"But we are considering it," Potax said. "The last commander that I had wasn't as mad as Istak."

"By far the most mad," Bete agreed. 

"The Empire was built to have safegaurds against having a mad leader," Potax said. "they failed."

"I . . ." S'Chess started to say. "I am not happy about this."

"We either," Bete said. 

"I am not asking for it but someone has to put her into the criminally insane asylum," S'Chess said. 

"Considerably, she would be in heaven," Potax said."It wouldn't be a negative thing at all."

"Not if we do a take over," Bete said. 

"That is a offense against the empire," S'Chess said.

"it has to be done," Bete said. 

"For what dignity we have left," Potax added. "The fraud,--"

"HE IS NOT A FRAUD!" S'Chess finally shouted, loudly smacking her first on the table. "He is a doctor. From the Enterprise."

The two women shared a long, shocked glance with each other. There was silence in the room. Uncomfortable silence. The realization of who they had in their facility slowly sank in. It also made their hearts sink. Their fates were sealed if they attempted to intervene in the rescue mission. Star Fleet was well known for going back for what it lost even creating a team specifically for it. The Rapid Rescue Squad were not known to be pacifists or be hesitant once one stepped in the way of rescuing officers. The stories of the rescues were terrifying from first hand accounts of those who had survived the rescue attack.  They were the elite of the elite made of experienced security officers, medical professional and weapon specialists. Bete gulped. Potax cleared their throat feeling her muscular body tremble. Potax felt sick just as S'Chess felt. Nothing was going to end well if they followed orders. They were ill-advised orders that someone didn't have the right mind to issue. At least, that was the vocal agreement that the two had come to regarding to the mentality of their superior officer. 

"We have to do it," Potax said. 

"Do it?" S'Chess said, alarmed.

"It is the only logical way out," Bete said.

"Do what?" S'Chess asked, again.

"We will surrender to Star Fleet," Potax finished.

"The Praetor will not be happy," S'Chess said.

"Screw what the Praetor thinks," Potax said.

"If you want to live, this is the next best option," Bete said.

"No one would join us," S'Chess said.

"When there is a will then there is a way," Bete said. 

"They may not like you but they can get behind the idea of rebelling against a mad commander," Potax said. "once that is over. . ."

"We can be involved in different activities,"  Potax said.

"Like say," Bete said.

There was a pause as though they had no idea what to come up with.

"Start over," S'Chess said.

"Exactly," Bete said, placing a hand on the sub-commander's shoulder.  "start a new life." 

Bete and Potax shared a nod. 

"Defect the Romulan empire," Potax said.  Reason being, whose to say there are not others like a death wishing commander out there in the empire? 

They didn't want to go through that: _twice_.


	7. Refocus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> La'tusa nash-veh na' du means I mourn for thee.
> 
> Fainusu means friend.

The new captain's ready room felt foreign to Spock. Not that he ever intended to command a starship. It brought him great displeasure to steal the Enterprise after activating his star fleet commission. He sat down in his chair looking over toward a picture of Decker with his parents in the background appearing to be youthful. His heart ached. Spock and Jim could have conceived a child after the surgery. The surgery that was planned after the second five year mission to give him a synthetic womb. What they could have done during the refit . . . They had planned together their future. A future that would never come to be. Spock slammed the photograph down on the desk laying flat with its support part sticking up. Spock turned the closed photograph away from his direction. Spock turned the chair away from the desk.  
  
Spock rubbed his forehead feeling immense, heavy grief.  
  
Three years under going Kolinahr had done nothing for Spock.  
  
"La'tusa nash-veh na' k'du," Spock said, softly to himself in  Vulcan.  
  
_Why does it hurt so much?_ , Spock thought, then he added to himself, _Because it was real_.

Tears rolled down the Vulcan's green cheeks. He leaned forward placing his hands onto his face as he wept. His shoulders rolled up and down. He took pauses in between his weeping allowing himself to emotionally handle the emotions without killing himself because of it. Emotions were Vulcan's worse enemy in the end. Bendii Syndrome was a rare neurological disorder that was inflicted to Vulcan elders beyond the age of two hundred. It only struck a minority of the elder Vulcans. Spock mathematically weeped. He lowered his hands down and straightened himself wiping a tear off his face. He turned back in the direction of the desk.

Through the doorway came Xon.  
  
"Captain," Xon said.  
  
"Lieutenant," Spock said.    
  
"Permission to speak freely?" Xon asked.  
  
"Permission granted," Spock said.  
  
"Is there someone at Hellgaurd that concerns you?" Xon asked. "To risk being dishonorably discharged for stealing your  ship?"  
  
"There is," Spock said. "someone I was once close to."  
  
"Doctor McCoy," Xon deduced.

Spock tilted his head slightly.

"Negative," Spock said. He straightened his head. "my brother."

"Mr Sybok?" Xon said. "I am familiar to him."

"Most Vulcans," Spock said.

"You do not understand," Xon said. "I met him once after a protest. A traumatic one. I met them at different times."

"Intriging," Spock said. "what else do you know of Doctor McCoy?" Spock gestured the young man in.  
  
Xon approached the desk.  
  
"Last I heard, he and his assistant Mr Mallard were taking care of a Klingon troop near the neutral zone,"  Xon said. "There had been a internal fight between the houses that was resolved." He tilted his head. "But I find it not at all troubling that he is there. Did you hear of the stories where he delivered Gorn triplets in a conflict zone a few months ago? My father met him personally at the conflict zone two months ago."

"Sit down," Spock said. "and tell me, what other conflict zones has the doctor been going illegally into?"  
  
"The Dineo-Beharian, The  Loche-Gangorian, The Romulan-Klingon Conflict Zone--resolved, peacefully--, The Lacciev-Hondurian, Gangorian-Hondurian, The Gangorian-Romulan, The Gangorian-Hondurian, Hondurian-Thermian, and if you would like to see the evidence I recommend you look up Medical Privatize Corps NewsWatch," Xon said. "He is in all of the videos. Can't miss him."  
  
Spock jotted down on the flat screen.  
  
The computer screen changed to a moving picture where McCoy was seen taking care of a patient at the left hand corner of the room with a growing stubble on his chin. He saw the stardate indicate that it was shortly after the five year mission had concluded, sometime afterwards, with his knitted bull horn eyebrows hunched forward in the direction of the patient with a ant like head except no antennas. He muted the sound from the device and saw McCoy in the background. He was handed a dermal regenerator by a nurse. It appeared as though they were not on a starship but on a ground based location. Star Fleet did not have wars but there were areas of conflicts where some species had. Small, but relatively minor that were considered protests by humans. Spock was somewhat familiar to the species but mostly the fish headed Gangorian conflicts. The Gangorians had a safe, wet environment.  It was perpetually wet and hardly dried but they had policies regarding their flowers and other plant life being exchanged through the quadrant.

Spock paused the video.  
  
"Have you met the doctor during his activities?" Spock asked.  
  
Xon nodded.  
  
"I was part of the Dineo-Beharian protest with my colleagues regarding the inhumane treatment of the shared Green Pandas," Xon said. "I only spoke with the doctor because he had awaken me from my healing trance," Spock nodded, as though he understood the doctors antics. "and he was cranky."  
  
"It appears that no matter where he is, the doctor is that way," Spock said.  
  
"Captain," Xon said. "that is a Romulan Colony, and I advise you, as second officer, since you had Miss Ilia escorted to the brig, that you return to the Vulcan and not breach a interplanetary war."  
  
"The needs of the many outweigh the needs the of the few," Spock said.  
  
"But the few are the colonists, and the united federation of planets is the many," Xon said.  
  
"You are adjusting to working with humans, right?" Spock inquired.  
  
"Affirmative, captain," Xon said.  
  
"Sometimes, not always," Spock said. "when it comes to humans being threatened, my adun once said: 'Rules, what rules?'." A fond memory returned into Spock's mind. It was in their second year of serving together, bonded, as husband and husband. Jim was emotionally compromised when McCoy was part of the medical party that was captured by Klingon forces. Klingons could harm other humans, kill them if need be, if they were posing a threat against them as warriors. Spock calmed his adun in private. . . He could still remember it.

_"The doctor is a very capable man," Spock said. "He can take care of himself."_

_"But these are Klingons, Mr Spock," Jim, said, sinking down into the cabin's chair._

_"Ashalik nash-veh," Spock placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "he will make himself useful for them.  Klingons always need doctors due to their violent tendencies."_

_Jim looked up toward Spock._

_"Violent tendencies. . ." Jim said. "oh boy, so,  we should wait them out?"_

_"Logically, he will be on their tail long enough that they will send him back," Spock said._

_"If that doesn't happen. . ." Jim said, unable to finish the grim thought._

_"He will organize a escape and beam himself over with the survivors of his group," Spock said._

_"Bones?" Jim said. "Organizing a escape?"_

_"It is not far fetched as you would think," Spock said._

_"He leaves it to us on a escape plan," Jim said._

_"He relies on our courage," Spock said. Jim raised an eyebrow._

_"Too much reliance?" Jim said. "Or too much dependence on us?"_

_"He is a doctor, not a captain," Spock said. "humans have a odd way of getting back to where they belong. And find themselves doing things they would not ordinary do to get home."_

_"That is true," Jim said._

_"Otherwise, the Enterprise should remain in orbit of the planet." Spock said.  
_

_Jim smiled._

_"Why Mr Spock, you make me believe in hope," Jim said, holding his two fingers out._

_"You make me believe in miracles, captain," Spock said, returning the gesture._

"I do not understand," Xon said.  
  
"Humans will make you feel for them and then put themselves into harms way," Spock said.  
  
"I see," Xon said. "logically, the favor must be returned."

"Indeed," Spock said.

"As captain, you are not obligated to go on a away mission," Xon said.

"That never stopped Captain Kirk and that will not stop me," Spock said. "you are dismissed, Mr Xon."

Xon stood up from the chair then walked around it where he headed out of the captain's ready room. His first assignment in deep space was going off eventfully. His parents T'Lance and T'Sybok were more proud of him for being where he was at now. His father, a short Vulcan with a cardiac heart, compared to the brick house built Vulcanian woman that he was betrothed. His father was captaining a zoologist working to conserve Sehlats. He made his way down the hall until he came to the turbo lift. He came inside and then pressed a button to indicate which level he wanted to go to. He had a unusual feeling regarding Hellgaurd. He had to acquaint himself to Doctor Stone and his head nurse Christine Chapel. The turbo lift doors closed and opened then before him. The young Vulcan headed down the hall past several officers.  
  
Mr Spock had yet to announce why they had left Vulcan without the captain. It was quite out of character for a Vulcan to take command of a vessel and not give a reason to the crew. Xon entered sick bay to see Mr Stone with his long dark brown hair in a scrunchy. He looked like one of those people you will find on a retrieval mission for Star Fleet and cleverly taking down targets who threaten the mission's success. Perhaps Xon counted as he was part of the crew. Xon was not exactly the kind who would go around announcing it to every person he encountered. Perhaps Spock was designing his words to tell the crew of the ship which perhaps be a reasonable explanation.  
  
"Doctor Stone," Xon said.  
  
Stone turned around with raised eyebrows then he grew a pleased expression on his face.  
  
"Mr Xon," Stone said.  
  
"You will be expecting a patient in here of some importance to the captain," Xon said.  
  
Stone appeared to be alarmed.  
  
"Captain Decker?" Stone said. "What do you mean something is going to happen to Lieutenant Ilia?"  
  
"Negative," Xon said. "Captain Spock."  
  
"Ohh. . ." Stone frowned. "He doesn't have another husband," He raised an eyebrow. "does he?"  
  
"Negative," Xon said. "it is Doctor McCoy who may need critical, emergency care."

"I can't believe the Vulcan got married so soon after his loss," Stone said. "oh well," the human shrugged. "Vulcans move on differently."  
  
Xon paused, considering that, staring off into space over the man's shoulder.  
  
Doctor McCoy and Captain Spock an item? It was a unexpected remark. The more he thought about it, the more reasonable it started to sound, and the more logical it began to sound, the less shocking it was. They had worked closely together during the beginning of the five year mission most notably when it came to ensuring the safety of the captain. The amount of times they had been on a away mission together without the captain. The thought gradually slid down into his head until it didn't bother him. The  Vulcanian captain apparently found out by some method that his fainusu was in need of help.  
  
"Hello?" Stone said, waving his hand in the Vulcan's vision. "Are you there, kid?"  
  
"I am fine, Doctor," Xon said. "I am here about my medical files."  
  
"Your medical files came in before we left," Stone said.

"And Captain Decker?" Xon asked.  
  
"Yes, I did, but getting Doctor McCoy's medical file won't be easy without his permission," Stone said. "and I can easily say this new captain won't be giving me permission to access his medical file any time soon." He raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any medical secrets regarding your health that is not in your file?"  
  
"Negative, Doctor," Xon said.  
  
"Good," Stone said. "go to the rec area and relax. Doctor's orders."

"I will attempt to sit back and 'chill out'," Xon said. "do you play bat mitton by any chance?"

"Yes," Stone said.

"Would you be troubled if we played bat mitton in the rec room?" Xon asked.

"Nah," Stone said. "I haven't played it in a long time. Let's do it after we pick up the captain."

Xon nodded.

"I look forward toward playing against you, Doctor," Xon said, then exited the room.

* * *

Sure Pavel's greatest role model was Mr Spock. But Mr Spock going ahead and stealing a starship? Not so much. Rumors were swirling on why they were going to hellgaurd. Some theorized that Spock was going there to retrieve a long lost sister or long lost brother that was kept there by a Romulan colonist who happened to be a scientist who had been close friends with Sarek. It was extra ridiculous asides to the idea that Jim was back and was in danger. That was absurd. Jim was dead, dead, dead as they came. He remembered the funeral service the Enterprise crew had. Spock notably absent while their replacements were on the bridge. McCoy's face was emotional. Staring out the observation deck. A party that was held and organized by Mr Scott with some help from Hikaru. The loss had been felt then but it didn't stop them from serving star fleet and finding new worlds. Saving other peoples lives. Hikaru was in the arboretum when Captain Spock entered. Spock's hands were locked behind his back. Hikaru looked over noticing the stiffness in the ma's posture while he sat on the edge of a barrier to the plants. Zonnia was among the plant life.

"Mr Spock," Hikaru greeted the captain.

Spock looked up toward the man gently touching the  petals to the plant.

"Mr Sulu," Spock said.

"Would you like to take one of these flowers?" Hikaru asked.

"Negative," Spock said. "I  came here for the nostalgia." His hand slowly came to the leaf.

"Ahhh," Hikaru said. "Suppose you are not going to turn the Enterprise over to me, again."

Hikaru had a nervous laugh as the Vulcan tilted his head and he relaxed at the familiar withering glare.

"You are highly illogical as always, Commander Sulu," Spock said.

"You like humanity's logic, Captain," Hikaru said. "Why else come back to the  Enterprise if you still resent that?" why was the human so happy to see the Vulcan? It is quite irrational when the Vulcan had done nothing of great importance to earn that liking. "That is illogical in Vulcan standards if I say so myself."

"The needs of the many outweigh the need of the one," Spock said.

"So you got interested into the colonists," Hikaru said, clipping a Zonnia off with a pair of scissors. He held it out for the Vulcan.

"I do not need the flower," Spock said. 

"Take it," Hikaru said. "I meant to have a batch at the funeral service... Jim loved it, and he loved you more than the world, frankly he planned ahead to have a huge batch of them grown when the five year mission ended to represent you. So he said." Hikaru elaborated as Spock reluctantly took the Zonnia. The little flower was laid on his green hands. He smelled the sweet, soothing aroma from the flower. It reminded him of Jim. He felt pain from his chest, gentle, small pain. Emotional pain, logically. "Too bad there was a glitch in the water systems a week before it happened."

"Commander," Spock said. "I must apologize for stealing your ship."

"No need to," Hikaru said. "I am actually glad that we are going on a space trip again." Spock raised his eyebrow.

"Space trip?" Spock inquired.

"Sorry that came out wrong," Hikaru said. "I meant away mission. Saving the day again as a family." 

"I was not aware you viewed the crew as a family," Spock said.

"You and Jim were like parents," Hikaru said. "McCoy was like the uncle who meant well. Pavel was the little brother. Christine and Nyota were the loving aunts who made sure everyone was okay.  And Scotty is like a grandpa to all the kids. " The man smiled fondly at the memory that was crossing his mind.  "Has your time off made you better?"

"We shall see," Spock said. 

"I heard you met up with the doctor," Hikaru said.

"That we did," Spock said.

"How is he?" Hikaru asked.

"He was adequate," Spock said.

"I haven't seen him since we went our ways," Hikaru acknowledged.

"He did not tell you of what he was planning to go through," Spock said. "Interesting to keep back information like this. . ."

Hikaru grew a long concerned face at the tone that Spock was speaking under.

"What information?" Hikaru said.

"Commander--" Spock said.

"He is there?" Hikaru said, sitting down onto the barrier as his eyes widened in horror. "Oh my god. Sir. . I. . ." the man had gone pale. "I understand perfectly."

"Quite logical," Spock said. "It has been too long since I visited this area of the ship. . . is there any new additions?"

The Asian man nodded his head, his mood changing visibly.

"We have a new type of flower made, recently, well, we kind of brought aboard the Vulcan sky flower," Hikaru got off the flat bench like barrier.

Spock's eyebrow raised further nearly disappearing into his bangs.

"What do you mean by 'kind of' commander?"  Spock inquired.

"It is sort of Vulcan and sort of not," Hikaru said. "it was genetically modified to be capable of being in arctic regions for Vulcans such as Helter II." The two men came over to a bush that had white themed leaves with sharp spikes. The petals were a shade of yellow. Spock saw the stem of the arctic skyflower was not surrounded by the thorns. The thorns were developed to protect its water from insects. "This version of the Vulcan Sky Flower has a warm inside. It is a lot like a heater, actually, engineered by a friend of yours, T'Pring."

He looked over toward the Vulcan who gently touched the warm, soft petals. They made a light, delicate but beautiful sound.

"Fascinating," Spock said.

We finally notice the simmering figure by Spock's side, right in between the two men, but mostly in the center, as our camera panned closer. The two men were ignoring the middle figure as though they could not see him. Jim's ghostly figure knelt forward smelling the flower. A pleasant aroma drifted from the inside. Jim smiled, leaning up toward the man's side.

"It is," Hikaru said. "it is a good thing this plant cannot melt due to not being in the right environment."

"T'Pring has a excellent taste in Vulcanian plant genetics," Spock said.

Hikaru nodded.

"I bet you she is going to be a captain someday, captain of the USS Botany," Spock raised an eyebrow. "I heard rumors that Star Fleet is making a ship devoted to plants."

"The saplings or the seeds?" Spock inquired.

"Quite possibly a replacement for the seed storage," Hikaru shrugged. "the design plans are said to be reflecting over the protection of the seed producing plants, the vegetable plants, and the flowers. Redundancies to protect the hallucinogenic seeds and the crewmembers."

"That is logical," Spock said.

"I won't be surprised if T'Pring is part of it,"  Hikaru said. "one of the leading experts in Vulcanian plant genetics."

Jim reached his hand out toward Spock with two fingers out and passionately touched the man's two first fingers set near the thumb. Spock experienced a jolt of powerful, passionate sensitive feelings wash over him. His penis started to get hard. Jim's nearly visible figure vanished in-between the men. Jim was randomly touching his hand in the least appropriate times. It was hilarious. Spock laughed at himself, mentally, rather than expressing his emotions externally. He needed to be somewhere and deal with the little gift that Jim had left him. It was annoying that Jim was dead. Teasing him from the afterlife with ozh'esta for the rest of his life. He was going to make Jim Kirk pay when he died by going up and doing it to him and then carrying on his day in the afterlife, randomly, when Jim wasn't aware. It was a favor that Spock was ever too excited to return, internally.

"Mr Sulu, where is the men's room?" Spock asked.

"Over there, down the hall, take a turn left, go down that hall, turn right, and then you will see the gender inclusive sign," Hikaru said. "they installed a private stall and you might find some plants growing in there," the commander rolled his eyes. "we already got some botanists using the lighting there to help some plants grow," he shook his hand. "I don't do that--"  Spock didn't hear the rest as he made his way toward the men's room. Hikaru sighed, then looked down to see the zonnia on the barrier flat surface. "Oh boy, I don't know what is on his mind but he is not leaving this with me."

* * *

Scotty was annoyed, mostly, that Mr Spock had ordered him to take time off. Spock had a zonnia pinned within his star fleet badge.  It looked good on the Vulcan. That, Scotty, could agree on. He couldn't agree on if the Vulcan was doing well. Scotty went to the bar section of the Enterprise that had a Gangorian tending to it. He was surprised that Spock had not come in here, yet. It seemed as though that  Vulcan had been everywhere aboard the ship. Perhaps he did need the time off. He sat down onto the bar stool alongside two young female Deltans in red uniforms consisting of trousers instead of skirts.

"Scotty?" Scotty looked over to see the Bartender, a former barber, smiling back at him.

"Scle'ion!" Scotty said. "Nice tae see ya."

"As to you, old friend," Scle'ion said. "Green alcholo?"

"As usual," Scotty said.  The two Deltans beside Scotty were unable to say words as Scle'ion poured a drink for the Scottsman. "How ye been?"

"Mostly fine," Scle'ion said. "I have been . . . majoring. . . in new hair cuts . . . if you like to call them hair cuts," the bartender winced. "butchered hair." He shook his head lowering the cup to the counter. "Deltans are lucky they do not, biologically, grow hair."

"Sir," Ensign Harrik said. "hair is like . . ."

"keeping a part of yourself closed off," Ensign Sark continued, her thin arched eyebrows  lowered as she sipped from her glass. "a travesty that the skin cannot be touched."

"Hair is still sansationaizin'," Scotty said. "hair is still sexual in our culture."

"Interesting," Sark said.

"Sir," Harrik said. "have you ever been given a . . Deltan. . . gift?"

Sark loooked over toward the chief engineer.

"Nae," Scotty said. "I am nae always attracted tae women."

"Women don't always give the gifts, Mr Scott," Sark said. "men do it too."

Scotty's face turned a shade of pink. ". .. maybe. . . the one with the pretty leaves," Scotty said. "but I declined it."

The two deltan's were baffled.

"Why?" Sark asked.

"Because I am already in love with a lady," Scotty said.

Scle'ion rolled an eye. "You do know she can't get married,"  Scle'ion said."it is illegal to adopt her."

"A man can dream!" Scotty said.

"But you just said you don't like women," Harrik said.

"You did," Sark agreed.

"The Enterprise dae nae have tae be a woman if she were human," Scotty said. "I love her through and through. She is my baby. I can't leave her unattended."

"Oooh. . . so. . . you feel like a parent," Harrik said.

Scotty nodded.

"Been rebuildin' her from the ground up into this beauty," Scotty said. "internally . .. " Scotty couldn't finish it as he was about to choke on his emotions. "externally, she is a magnificent silver lady."

"He is always like that," Scle'ion said, as Scotty took a sip from his drink. "don't underestimate him."

"Humans," Sark and Harrik said.

Harrik sighed.

"You know, I have not seen the captain down in the security room to meet his security team," Harrik said.

"Decker?" Sark asked.

"No, Mr Spock," Harrik said. "much as I like to meet him. . ."

"But I thought--" Sark was cut off.

"He is taking command of the ship," Harrik said.  "Don't know who promoted him when he should still be a commander after he left Star Fleet."

"He needed a break," Scotty said. "after that loss. I can nae blame him."

"Nor would have I," Scle'ion said. "excuse me, y'all. I have another customer to attend to."

"Lung iil zur utt gare uun huup?" Sark asked. The language, it sounded familiar. Scotty heard it from somewhere--an Andorian officer speaking with another Andorian officer over a game of chess. A few years ago. It was quite different from Vulcan, that Scotty knew, because Vulcan was quite a complex, formal language that sounded beautiful to his ears. Andorian just sounded like gibberish but very sophisticated with words that got the meaning across.

"Baan," Harrik said, slightly waving her hand. "uut zeekh."

Scotty took another sip of his drink.  
  
"kunoon zhiih aph?" Sark asked.   
  
"Ba koph prep," Harrik said.  
  
"Noon tiph," Sark said, then she took a sip of her glass.  
  
Scotty took another sip then swallowed the bit.

"Funny how life is," Harrik said, returning to federation standard. "we find ourselves in surprising places."

"Wherever there is a bar, there is going to be me,"  Sark said. "not at all surprising, my friend."

"But being under Mr Spock's command," Harrik said. "that is surprising."

"Best officer in the fleet,"  Scotty spoke up. "he deserves it."

"You are not even surprised?" Harrik asked.

"Nae the slightest," Scotty said. "how about ye, lassies?"

"I thought I would be under the command of a human male as seventy-three percent of the federation starships are commanded by men," Harrik was jabbed in the shoulder by Sark. "Sixty-three percent."  
  
The years bound by spacedock had aged him by ten years. Being in unknown space was like floating in the void where age did not matter. It was irrelevant. It was a mute discussion regarding physically aging. Scotty had grown a gray mustache and his figure had grown rounded being bound to the ground. Scotty almost did not recognize himself at first when he noticed his once slim figure was gone. No longer was that young man who tricked the Kobyashi Maru to firing torpedoes at once. No longer was the well, attractive man who could get surrounded by women. But did it matter at his occupation? No, not really. He could still move on to the parts in engineering that most people could not navigate but he could.

He knew engineering by heart. The kids here were adapting to it and getting adjusted to it. Perhaps he was kicked out of engineering because of a little dilithium problem while convinced someone stole it. Because they could not have easily just lost a spare dilithium. He knew where they were kept and so did the ensigns. And Scotty was, in all retrospects, just casually asking. Not like he was grilling them.  What did Spock see in the situation that resulted in having time off? There had to be certain logic in that for the Vulcan to advise him taking time off. Scotty would never know.

"And the rest of the percentage are by high esteemed, intelligent women," Scotty said. "you meet the captain of  the USS Hood?" Sark and Harrik shook their heads.

"No, Mr Scott," Sark said. "Call me Scotty, please," Scotty said. "and she is very butch. Very butch. I can nae stress on how butch she is because of how great she is," he had a fond smile recalling the woman. "She used tae be an engineer in the fleet, ye know."

"Mrs Wright?" Sark asked, surprised. "A engineer? I heard she used to be a security officer."

"Dae nae believe everythin' ye hear, lassies," Scotty said. "She once was assigned tae the Enterprise as a lieutenant commander under my win'," he took a sip of his drink. "took nae time at all tae become commander and get transferred tae the USS Hood."

"Sounds like a impressive track sheet," Sark said.

"She is just good at her field," Scotty said. "I like that about her.. I like that about those I get to know first hand."

"Have you ever met Captain Rainsford?" Harrik asked.

"Aye," Scotty said. "bright youn' woman. Wise beyond her years. Met her last year at Starbase 1."

"Wait, she was actually there?" Harrik asked, alarmed.

"In the flesh," Scotty said, with a nod.

"Daaamn," Harrik said. "you meet every historical person of this era."

"Not everyone," Scotty said. "nae Garth of Izar. . . Wish I met him."

"I heard they got rid of what drove him insane," Harrik said. "he is somewhere in the galaxy chilling out."

"Fortunetly, no one knows where," Sark said, as we see men with black pupils surrounding the once captain enjoying a type of alcohol. "It is probably for the best," They were in white, bright attire and appeared to be pampering him with everything he wanted. They hard dark curly hair with different shades of black skin. Garth appeared to be enjoying himself. Our scene panned back to the bar. "with all things considered."

"His reputation in star fleet would have left time taking years to regain that trust," Harrik said. "let alone commanding a starship.

"Hope that never has tae come down tae me," Scotty said.

"You?" Harrik said. "Becoming criminally insane and losing your reputation?"

"It can happen," Scotty said, taking a sip from his cup.

"Please, can that not?" Sark asked.

"Can nae deny the possibility," Scotty said. "anythin' can happen in space."

"That is true," Harrik said.

"Like bein' turned in tae a breedin' machine or a parasite impregnettin' ye," Scotty said.

"Just what kind of missions did you go on, Scotty?" Harrik asked.

Scotty grinned.

"Have ye ever heard of Macgyver?" Scotty asked.

"No, what is it?" Harrik said, confused as Sark sat there in spilling horror from her face.

"And Doc Brown?" Scotty asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Which Doctor Brown?" Harrik said, confused, as Sark tapped on the butch woman's shoulders. "The one from the USS Hope? Or . . ."

"He is talking about the time traveler," Sark said. "but he is fictional."

"Are nae we all?" Scotty said. "Just stories on a piece of paper?"

"Theoretically," Harrik said, with a shrug.

"How did you meet them?"  Sark asked.

"Funny story," Scotty said, then he took another sip from his drink.

"Tell us," Sark said.

"Well. . . I was under Captain Sulu's command back then. . ." Scotty started.

* * *

Christine was headed to Sick Bay when she saw a familiar pair of pointy ears and a familiar stride headed her way in a golden jacket. She could see the green tint of skin first then the pair of brown eyes. The hollow cheeks. All the other star fleet officers became background noise. Face less to her. It was like her and that damn, mysterious tall but lanky man were the only ones in the universe. It had been twenty-four hours since the Enterprise had gone into back space. Twenty hours since Spock made the ship wide announcement regarding the mission of the ship and elaborated, it had been more of a: "Captain Decker has been put through some inconvenience. Under my command, the Enterprise will retrieve the surviving colonists and physicians from Hellgaurd and then return to Earth to face the impending charges. Captain Spock out." kind of announcement.  
  
"Mr Spock!" Christine said. Spock had his hands locked behind his back when he stepped out of a ensign's way. She almost swore that his face turned into one of pleased recognition. But that could be her imagination trying to personify a being who normally didn't express emotions all the time. Back in the day, Spock did express his emotions in a manner that could be compared to a human being careful with how they were expressed. He looked stiff.  
  
"Christine," Spock said, as she approached him. "it is pleasant to see you again."  
  
"Same to you," Christine said. "I missed you."

Spock slightly tilted his head, almost in disbelief.

"Just seeing you, again, Mr Spock," Christine said. "I didn't get the chance to say . . . but . . . I grieve with thee."  
  
"It has been a rough period in my life," Spock said. "how is your mate?"  
  
"T'Pring has all ready found a starship that allows children in space," Christine said. "she is chilling out studying a venus fly trap hybrid with a Cardassian Venus Fly Trap to see how similar they are to each other."  
  
"That is a intriguing concept," Spock said.  
  
"Yes," Christine said. "how have you been?"  
  
"Pleasant," Spock said.

"You don't sound like you believe it," Christine said, folding her arms.

"Quite illogical that I sound this way," Spock said. "I thought my human half was burned away."

"But it wasn't," Christine said.

"I understand the concept of wack-a-mole more than I did before," Spock said. "and you?"

"Serving aboard, back home again, feels wonderful," Christine said. "but I sometimes feel like. . ." she pause, being considerate. "Jim will come right in and start talking to me. Like he never died."

"I understand," Spock said.

"But you are here," Christine said. "so he is still here."

"In spirit," Spock said. He couldn't say that Jim was with him because if they found out-- _holySurakhelpme_.

"Yes, in spirit," Christine agreed.

"He never left," Spock said.

"You still feel him?" Christine said.

"From time to time," Spock said. "old habits die hard."  
  
"Mr Spock. . ." Christine said. "I. . ." She cleared her throat. "I hope you found happiness in your life again."

"As to you," Spock said.  
  
She sadly smiled back at the Vulcan then went past him. Christine's shift had just started. She had a strange feeling lingering in her gut regarding  Spock. It was unusual. She made her way past several officers until she came into sick bay where the doors opened before her eyes. A ensign had her leg wrapped by several layers of fabric while playing with what to be a small teddy bear enjoying herself. Stone's sick bay was full of ensigns who had either gotten themselves hurt by accident or did it to be around the doctor. She understood why the ensigns were here. Doctor Stone was a attractive man with muscles that normally would be seen on a security officer.

She made her way toward the young woman.  
  
"You should stop pining after the doctor, Ensign Richards," Christine said.  
  
Richards looked up toward Christine.  
  
"Why should I?" Richards asked.  
  
"He is asexual," Christine said.  
  
It dawned on Richard's face.

"The doctor is. . ." Richards said.  "why would he tell you that?"  
  
"He told me," Christine said. "and the other nurses." She took out a new roll of fabric and a pair of scissors.  
  
"Oh. . ." Richards said. "so he doesn't like anyone?"  
  
"He is not interested in sex," Christine repeated herself.  
  
"Oh," Richards said. "I understand."

"You can find someone who'll reciprocate your feelings, sexually," Christine said, patting on the young woman's shoulder.  
  
The fabric was unwrapped as the woman flinched as each layer was pried away. The big toe was swollen and a bright shade of red. She placed the fabric into the medical dispensary. She pulled away a nearby cupboard and  brought a small dermal regenerator over. Richards winced. The gentle colored parts along her face shimmered briefly moving slightly. Her face was made of what appeared to be permanently merged tentacles that were at first sea like in terms of appearance that were purple, pink, and light blue. She mainly had a peach skin tone. She was a Hondurian. Hondur was a beautiful planet that consisted of beaches and gorgeous mountains that most species enjoyed visiting. She pressed the trigger repairing away the damage to the toes. This was a relatively minor task.  She carefully healed along the ridges to the toes that were connected together by small webbing.

"I am stupid," Richards said.

"No, you are not," Christine insisted.

"We Hondurian's can detect a sexuality," Richards said. "and I should have listened to mine."

"Look, Richards," Christine said, gently, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder. "sometimes we ignore our best instincts. Humans do that too."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Richards said.

"It is not to be that way," Christine said.

"Hm?" Richards asked.

"I am sympathizing with you," Christine said. "like you . . . I ignored my best instincts when it came to falling in love with someone. . ." She briefly closed her eyes then reopened them. "I allowed my feelings to get to the best of me."

"I don't think of you as that type to get in over their head,"  Richards said.

"I did," Christine said, fondly. "once."

"How long did it last?" Richards asked.

"We were engaged for awhile. . ." the woman slid her hand off the Hondurian's shoulder. "yours is just a simple mistake."

"It feels like the world is ending for me," Richards said, lowering her head.

"Don't be hard on yourself," Christine said.

"All right," Richards said.

"I will fill out your discharge padd," Christine said. "otherwise, you are free to go."

Richards looked over toward her colleagues then back toward Christine.

"I would love to see their reactions but. . ." Richards said. "I have to go." She slid off the biobed then headed her way out of the room.

Christine picked up a padd and jotted down on the page for Richard's medical  rap sheet. She wrote the report up leaving it as a accidental foot shot. Richards was a weapon specialist so getting hurt was nothing big but a part of her job since it was likely to happen. She made her way to the next officer who was science officer Riez. Riez was staring at Stone's ass with a dreamily sigh. He was a black man with a curled spongey afro with ridges on his forehead and slanted furry black eyebrows. A genetically altered  man. Christine faked a cough drawing the man's attention toward her. He was a lieutenant slowly climbing the ranks. Nurse Brackett was dealing with a Gangorian officer with a fish shaped head get their elbow fixed. The Gangorian had webbed fingers that were long, covered in scales. and had a human like anatomy. There was a Thermian officer getting their arm fixed up by Nurse Beckett. The Thermian had a black oval hair cut with rounded ears and had pale skin instead of healthy skin.  It was determined that  Thermians had a largely, unique overview of humanity despite being octopus in nature with many tentacles. Their appearance generator determined everything about their appearance. No one really knew what they looked like due to Thermian need to blend in with those around them. Internally, physicians knew what they looked like.

"Mr Riez," Christine said. 

Riez turned his head in the direction of the woman.

"Allo, Nurse Chapel," Riez said, giving a small smile as he twiddled his fingers.

"Mr Stone is not interested in sex," Christine said.

"Oh. . ." Riez nervously laughed. "I, uh, um. erh, uh.. . . . " he rubbed the back of his neck. "I knew that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andorian translations: 
> 
> Lung iil zur utt gare uun huup=do you think he care about his husband?
> 
> Baan, uut zeekh=sure, he sad.
> 
> Kunoon zhiih aph= why take over?
> 
> Ba koph prep= to move on. 
> 
> Noon tiph=reason enough


	8. Remain

Adequate could not go on to explain how Nyota felt regarding the announcement made hours ago. She was thrilled. In all retrospects going on a rescue mission just for the sake of it was a nice way of starting the second five year mission with a bang. Jim would have approved, she was sure of it. T'Pring sent back a wave of content in the shared bond. Jim had been there for Nyota and Christine's wedding, presiding over it, really, but it was a shame that he hadn't been there to attend Nyota's bonding ceremony with T'Pring. It was the happiest day of her life. She felt that he would have cried during the ceremony more than she did.  She saw Riez sitting down at the mess hall with a dark cloud above his head not speaking to anyone who came close to him. T'Plass, a Vulcan officer, placed a hand on the man's shoulder then leaned forward and whispered something into Riez's ear.

T'Plass leaned up as a eyebrow was raised at the Vulcan.

"That is nice of you to ask," Riez said. "but no."

"Kuv ish-veh istaya," Riez appeared to be amused. "Sorry, I meant, if  you wish."  The Vulcan rubbed the back of his neck.

"I sometimes slip in my mother  language," Riez said. "don't have to apologize."

"What part of Earth do you hail from?" T'Plass asked.

"I was born on a Federation Colony, not Earth," Riez said. "a mix of Andorian and Gangorian."

"But I heard you were born on Earth," T'Plass said.

Riez smiled.

"I lied on my file about that,"  Riez said. "no one needs to know that personal information."

"That is a federal offense," T'Plass said.

"It is not hurting anyone," Riez said. "or bothering anyone for that matter."

"I will consider continuing this conversation on a better time," T'Plass went past the man with slender shoulders.

"' _Continue this conversation later_ '," Riez mocked to himself. "everyone tells me that and never get around to it." He shook his head with a grunt then started to shove his knife against the steak using a fork in his other hand to keep it balanced.

Our view glided over back toward Nyota but there was Christine sitting alongside her. Christine's hair was a shade of brown and shorter than it used to be years ago. The two women had seemed like they aged ten years during the time that they had been off the  Enterprise off on different assignments. Christine's hand touched Nyota's hand looking back at her in concern.

"Is there something wrong?" Christine asked.

"It is just that. . ." Nyota said. "I heard a rumor."

"Oh, the rumor," Christine said.

"It makes sense," Nyota said. "it makes sense why he refused to tell us. "

"You would have done the same if it were Pree," Christine said.

"No, you would have done the same," Nyota said. "the only time Pree would be in that kind of situation if I were dead." Christine paused, rubbing her chin, thinking. "but instead,  you would take her ass out of Gor and taken her on a safari on planet that has a lot of plant life still unknown to botanists, well, actually enlist her into that study and be part of the assignment as a nurse."

". . . I am not denying I would do that," Christine said.

"Because you would do it," Nyota said. "and you wouldn't put yourself into danger."

Christine raised an eyebrow.

"Are you saying there isn't carnivores plants out there?" Christine said.

"I am not saying that," Nyota said. Christine lowered her eyebrow. "I am saying you would not put yourself under the threat of Romulans."

"Oh," Christine said. "if it were grave, I would, but Ii would jot dream of it."

"You love Pree too much for that," Nyota said, as Christine grabbed the woman into a hug and kissed Nyota's right cheek earning laughter.

"How is the bridge?" Christine asked, as she unwrapped her arms from around the woman's shoulders.

"Well..." Nyota thought back. "hailing channels are crowded with demands to turn back. Asides to that, the bridge is fairly smooth." Christine grew a concerned expression that was riddled with a gut wrenching realization. God, did it hurt. The expression of her face turned into dismay and disbelief.

"He stole the ship," Christine said. "he stole the ship."

"Lower your voice, sugah," Nyota said. "it is the right thing to do."

"You are putting your career on the line not telling the others," Chrstine said, "how am I to react that you are not going to be  on this mission?"

"I rather be court martialed saving lives then none at all," Nyota said. Then she made an addition in a lowered voice cutting away at a piece of her dinner sharing a glance with Christine. "I would never begin a mutiny against Spock. Nor would you."

It was the kind of loyalty that a captain would need to take command of a starship. A kind of loyalty that Spock had on his side with the main command crew. Christine looked at Nyota at the eye seeing the conviction and certainty through those eyes that the loyalty had not gone away. And Nyota was right. She wouldn't begin a mutiny against Spock. After all that he had been through. Not after how much they both cared about him. Loving Spock was one thing. Caring about him was a entirely different story. The two women resumed eating their dinner in silence. The thought of Nyota not being with her in space hurt Christine. Christine decided. If Nyota was going to be court martialed then she will too by keeping the secret back. Spock had only mentioned through the intercomn that he was assigned as captain. He hadn't known Sarek had some effort in that rank upgrade. He hadn't known that others were behind the scenes giving perfectly reasonable explanations: _"He is getting a new assignment," "Mr Spock has come out of retirement," "My son is determined to move on and is getting himself prepared._ " and last but not least, _"Spock is not interested in being devoted to logic and not emotions his entire life."_

* * *

It was morning when Stone's shift started. If anything, he preferred to be watching reruns of General Hospital, Days of Our Lives, and what remained of the old syfy 'natural disaster/alien encounter/animal attack' classics that still remained. He didn't like to be around others. It made him uncomfortable but he did like caring for them. He had a low whistle to himself striding his way to sick bay. He had to expect, tomorrow, by the latest, a whole host of patients. He suspected it had to be someone he met during his time out in space in the medical corps. He was the kind who was observant to others. To be wary, cautious, or to be friendly due to how they were physically set up.  Federation standard boots, small pistol phaser, and matching attire that fit their build were  more than likely federation agents. The pistol phaser was favored for those in Section 31 or so the rumors said. He met a agent once during his time at the academy and was offered to be a part of it. Stone declined. Our attention turned toward Riez who passed by Stone.

"Good morning, Mr Riez!" T'Plass greeted  Riez with a short wave.

T'Plass was the friendliest Vulcan on the Enterprise, period.

"Good morning, Mr Plass," Riez said.

T'Plass followed after Riez taking a steering right turn curving his path away the direction that he had been going in to come  by the human's side.   


"What planet were you born on?" T'Plass asked.   


"You don't need to know," Riez said.   


"I am interested,"  T'Plass said.  


"It is not relevant," Riez said.   


"It is if you have an allergy that no one knows of and has a life  saving treatment," T'Plass said.   


"I don't have an allergy," Riez said.   


"What if you did," T'Plass said.   


"I don't," Riez said.

"Come on," T'Plass plead.   


"No,"  Riez said.   


"Aw, you are not interested in finding out if you have an allergy, doctor?" T'Plass said, walking backwards while facing the human.   


"Not interested," Riez said. "and the laboratory is not big enough for a nosy security officer."   


"Why it is," T'Plass said.   


"Why don't you go mind your own business," Riez said. "like say, go to security headquarters."  


"There are no threats what so ever against the Enterprise so therefor I have plenty of time," T'Plass said, as Riez took a turn.  Riez felt annoyed. Was this Vulcan ever going to stop following him?

"I can't really tell you," Riez said.

"Why?"  T'Plass asked.

"You would not believe me," Riez said.

"Try me, Mr Riez,"  T'Plass said.

"Under the pacific ocean," Riez said.

"You were born in the first national underwater colony?" T'Plass repeated, in disbelief.

"Yes," Riez whistled.

T'Plass raised an eyebrow.

"But Gangorians wouldn't go underground," T'Plass said. "you are lying to me."

Riez sniggered.

"Over my dead body will you find out." Riez replied.

"Come on," T'Plass said.

"You are never going to tell the captain because you are curious," Riez said. "otherwise, if you tell him then it won't be fun annoying me."

"Well, I am not interested in annoying you," T'Plass said. "I like to hear the truth."

Riez was amused.

"You can't handle the truth," Riez said.

"Yes, I can," T'Plass said.

"My grandmother once said to me, 'Jur gun lemur handur ze pruthe, kurkit'," Riez quoted. "and that applies to you."

"You don't have to speak another language to say I cannot handle the truth," T'Plass said. "Your Gangorian is excellent. . . You didn't live on the Gangor planet, did you?"

"No," Riez said. "like I said, that is what my grandmother told me. Often."

"Your grandmother is a Gangorian," T'Plass said.  Riez rolled an eye.

"That is amusing that you say that but she wasn't," Riez said. "she had Romulan ancestry. Ooh, I think I think that was three generations ago?" the Klingon-like man shrugged, unsure. "Blended in quite well without a problem on Vulcan. Still around to this day at one of those nursing homes that treat the elderly."

T'Plass raised an eyebrow as he came in front of the man stopping Riez in his tracks.

"I won't leave until you talk." T'Plass said.

Riez folded his arms.

"Well," Riez said. His eyes brightened and a smile grew on his face. "I will be damned, I actually caught a fish that is hounding me."

"You are not leaving until you tell me,"  T'Plass said, his hands locked behind  his back.

"I was born on a space station, raised and grew up on Andoria in a street full of Gangorians," Riez said. "that is where I picked up the language from. It was a very turbulent childhood." Riez tilted his head. "Happy now?"

"If I believe you. . ." T'Plass said, unable to finish the sentence as the human straightened his head.

"Good!" Riez said, cheerfully.  "Now get the hell out of my way."

T'Plass stepped aside.

"Zank ju," Riez said, going down the hall.

T'Plass, the black Vulcan, turned in the direction of the walking human appearing to be suspicious. A part of him that the human had lied to him, again, regarding where he lived in for the beginning of his childhood.  A part of him believed that it was the truth. But his gut was screaming "that was a clear lie". T'Plass shook his head.  He had to report to the security head quarters and begin his shift. He took a turn in the direction that he had been coming from and went down the corridor.  It made sense on how Riez knew how to speak the two languages referring to them as his mother language. But what he did not like is how it bothered him. Supposedly it was the truth.  He continued walking down the hall until he came to a turbo lit. He slid his hand into the door stopping it from closing. There stood Brackett.

"Good morning, Plass," Brackett said.

"Greetings," T'Plass said, entering the rounded turbo lift with her. The doors closed on him.

"You look well today," Brackett said.

"Thank you,"  T'Plass said. "I shaved my new brand layer of head hair."

"Your head is so shiny," Brackett said.

"Thank you," T'Plass said.

"Did you hear the rumors regarding Captain Spock?" Brackett asked.

"Negative," T'Plass said.

"The grape vine said that he is really going there for a long lost son," Brackett said.

T'Plass looked over, raising a thin eyebrow.

"I do not believe that a son of Mr Spock would be at a Romulan colony," T'Plass said.

"And some think that he has a long lost sibling there who is a doctor who was genetically changed to sneak inside and make sure that they carried the colony out well years ago," Brackett said. "Which is reasonable with all things considered."

T'Plass hit a button along the side of the newly installed console. The turbo lift stopped with a jolt knocking Brackett down to the other side almost to the ground if not for the rail support behind her. The room turned dark. T'Plass turned in the direction of the tall woman. His eyes sending a withering and pissed off glare. His face showed a calm, collected  Vulcan standing before her but his eyes and eyebrows said the opposite. His eyebrows were hunched together.

"They may appear to be undergoing mental disabilities but it does not mean they are not capable of sustaining a population of their own," T'Plass said.  "They have survived for hundreds of years without going extinct in the process to be emotional beings. They are the counterparts of Vulcans who express emotions not control them. And just because they are different from you does not mean they are insane. In fact, they are much like you."

"How do you know that?" Brackett asked.

"My parents defected from the Romulan Empire when I was a child and I went with them," T'Plass said. "I may look Vulcan but I am not."

Brackett gasped

"Does Decker know?" Brackett asked.

"It is on my file," T'Plass said.

". . . That is risky," Brackett said.

"Risky as going around being insulting about another race,"  T'Plass said.

"It is the truth," Brackett said.

"Not all Romulans are pure evil," T'Plass said, sounding insulted even though he did not show it.

"But you are different," Brackett said.  "I mean with your paranoia, you might need pills to make sure that you don't . .  ."  She waved her index finger in a circle. "You know. . . get yourself on the operating table and three officers being tended to by the other nurses and I."

"I go by the Vulcan way," T'Plass said.  Brackett appeared to be startled. "I do not need to take medicine for that."

"A Romulan living a Vulcan's life. . . . that's . . . odd," Brackett said.

"Not as odd as you think," T'Plass said. "it is relatively common for defectors to turn to Vulcan ways."

"To think you were assigned on this ship as a Vulcan," Brackett said, with a eye roll.

"The captain requested me for this assignment, Miss Brackett," T'Plass said, then he turned in the direction of the panel "My skills in engineering were well sought for," He glanced back toward her. "At least four other captains were competing for me. All of which he was familiar to. They resolved their argument over a game of poker to send the assignment request to me."

"You were requested," Brackett said, in disbelief.

"Not assigned," T'Plass said, with a nod.

"Just how well did he know you?" Brackett asked.

"I met Captain Decker last week when rock climbing on Earth," T'Plass said, then he hit a button on the control panel. "He is a moderate climber."

The turbo lit turned on and began going up as Brackett stared at the Romulan. 

"You rock climbed with Decker?" Brackett asked.

"Of course I did," T'Plass said. "shouldn't be a surprised with this athletic human."

The doors finally opened.

"So the captain is attractive," Brackett said.

"I do not know about you but he has not moved on from his previous relationship," T'Plass said.

"Oh," Brackett said.

"I hope we talk together regarding a better subject," T''Plass said.

T'Plass went in the direction of the left passing by several Luccieve who had ant like heads with human eyes that were blue with black x shaped pupils. Long strands of light brown hair with black markings that appeared to be thorns at first sight. Lucciev had one thumb on each hand with small thick nails but they had two claws alongside the thumbs that were relatively large at first glance. At first sight it looked like they had a beak similar to a bald eagle or that of a pushed inwards dragon nostril. They had long thorny neck hair poking from the back of their uniform.  Among them were a pair of Loche officers with contraption like hands on the side of their heads. Their skin a mix of brown and Caucasian lacking eyebrows as there was a ridge that started from the nose then went up to the hand appendages. Loche had five fingers that were long with sharp claw like fingernails unlike their claw contraptions that did not have fingernails while the Loche themselves had a very human build.

* * *

Xon's shift ended in the afternoon. Mr Spock was meditating in the captain's chair. It was a light trance. The older Vulcan on the bridge had one leg over the other and his fingers were placed together. If one was not aware of meditation techniques, they would have assumed he was resting.  He could play ping pong with  a unsuspecting crewmember. Xon felt like it. A harmless, entertaining sport. He liked it, ever since his father exposed him to the very real human games done for sport and entertainment.  Ensign Tally, a Andorian/Vulcan hybrid came past the young Vulcan to the station. Xon made his way to the turbo lift. He pressed a button on the side of the console as the other officers emptied out being replaced by their replacements. Xon tapped on the flat screen, deck eight. The recreation deck rested on that level.

One of the lieutants yawned. "I cannot wait to hit the hay."

The others nodded in agreement.

"You mean bed," Xon said.

"Yes, that," Lieutenant Audri said.

"Landing in actual hay may not be benifit but it does have its advantages," Xon said.

"Like making out in it?" Audri asked.

"No," Xon said. "swimming in it."

"Swimming, Mr Xon?" Audri asked, raising her eyebrow. Other officers looked in his direction with raised eyebrows. People stepped back from the oblivious Vulcan.

"I find making out in hay rather uncomfortable," Xon said. "if there are large quantities of hay then it is entirely possible to swim in it."

"And you swam in it?" Audri asked.

"In my childhood, my parents introduced me to methods to enjoy myself," Xon said.

"Do you know how to swim?" Audri asked.

"Vulcans are very dense beings, fried," Ericine, a Orion, said. "Vulcans sink in water."

"Yes, we do," Xon said. "I . . unfortunately. . . cannot swim in water."

"But doesn't Vulcan have bodies of water like beaches?" Audri asked.

"No," Xon said. "the water is underground."

"But what about the wildlife?" Audri asked.

"It is a mystery," Xon said. "we have scientists who go out and track them. They get lost."

"Like the story of T'tor and his wife T'Dvi," Ericine said. "got lost in the wilderness and never came back. Some say they were eaten by Le-matya's. Well known story as they had a guide take them to the edge of the civilization and wildlife."

"They did not get lost," Xon said. "they were. . . simply. . . focused on their research. Isolation is quite logical for them."

"How do Vulcans get their water?" Audri asked.  

"They use synthesized water," Ericine said. "tough to get natural water from the ground these days for the Vulcans."

"Indeed," Xon said.  There was a pause as everyone finally noticed that the turbo lift had stopped, yet, the doors refused to budge.  Xon stepped forward slipping his fingers in to the cracks of the door way and slowly slid the doors apart. He saw that the turbo lift was stuck. There was enough room for someone of thin stature to slip on out. He looked over in the direction of the crowded back end of the turbo lift. "Do not panic. . . but can anyone else slip out and pull the turbo lift down, again?"

The men and women shook their heads.

"Sorry," Audri said. "humans aren't that strong."

"Nor are Orions," Ericine said.

"Me neither," The Gangorian security officer, Hip'tip, nodded.

Xon sighed.

"I will pull it down," Xon said.

Xon laid himself flat on the floor then slid his way out turbo lift. He turned his head to squeeze himself out. Xon stumbled to the ground. He couldn't believe that the turbo lift was all ready experiencing glitches. Xon got back up then reached his hands out grabbing the edge of the turbO lift standing on the tips of his toes. He started to lower the turbo lift down, slowly, hearing the metal screech against metal. It was a awful ear splitting sound. He lowered the turbo lift down until it was down to his level. He stepped side allowing his crewmates coming out. He had his hands locked behind his back. Ericine and Hip'tip were the only ones who remained as Audrin left with the others.

"Hey," Hip'tip said. "thank you professor."

"I am not a professor anymore, Mr Hip'tip," Xon said.  "call me Xon."

"All right, Mr Xon," Hi'tip said, with a nod. His wide fish like bounced in a way as he nodded. He turned away then headed in the direction of the rec room.

"Say," Ericine said. "has this been operating well?"

"I cannot say," Xon went in then he hopped. The turbo lift dinged. He came out of the turbo lift. "I must issue a report to the technicians regarding the continued error."

"Hey, you can do that later," Ericine said.

"If I put it off then I will never do it," Xon said.

"Okay," Ericine said. "that is true."

"I hope your day is eventful, Miss Ericine," Xon said, then he went in the opposite direction that the others had gone.

* * *

Our perspective swing to sick bay where there were are two red shirts being tended to by Christine and Backett. Scotty was sitting on the biobed with a ice bag clenched to the side of his head appearing to be apologetic. A Hondurian ensign walked out of sick bay alongside a Andorian lieutenant. Stone was working late instead of ending his shift in the morning like any sensible damn doctor in his career. He generally liked to care for others and be around on the spot when a star fleet officer becomes an idiot that they injured themselves gravely. Unlike Doctor McCoy who usually could be found on the bridge, Stone could be either found in his quarters wrapped by a blanket or in his office playing scrabble online.

"Sorry, Doctor," Scotty apologized, leaning up covering the corner of his right temple with a ice bag. "I did nae mean tae get into a fight."

"Over the Enterprise of all things," Stone said. "not surprised." He handed the dermal regenerator to Brackett He faced toward the Scotsman. "My predecessor sent me a message last week regarding what to expect when it came to his old crew. Hell, I met him at one of the Gangorian protests! A real sweetheart."

Scotty was skeptical at first.

"Doctor McCoy, a sweetheart, are we talkin' about the same man?" Scotty asked.

"Why yes, Scotty," Stone said. "he wasn't grumpy all the time. "

"Ah ha," Scotty said. "you didn't actually meet him face to face."

"We worked on the same patient," Stone said.

"Define workin' on the same patient," Scotty said.

"We worked on the same patient," Stone said, flashing a smile toward the older man as briefly. "you are discharged." he turned his attention in the direction of Nurse Brackett who had shoulder length dark brown hair with her attention turned toward a young black woman. "Nurse Brackett, you dropped your stylist."

"Why thank you, Doctor," Brackett said.

"Evary is pining on you and please , for gods sake, resolve your pining after they by talking to them like an ordinary person" Stone said. Stone rolled an eye. "I don't need nurses fainting on the job."

Stone went past the woman.

"Evary is pining me?" Brackett said, looking over in the direction of the quite male-appealing-person-but-had-the appearance-of-a-woman body wise to the Mak'Tar. Evary's cheeks turned a shade of pink. Their rolled elephant like trunk getting tighter above their lips making a unusual loud high pitched sound, their pointy white ears turning a shade of pink, the ridge above their eyes knitting together almost vanishing beneath the bowl hair cut. Evary finished writing on the padd then exited the room. "That certainly explains a lot."

Scotty got off the biobed. The scar that had been on the side of his forehead was no longer there and all that would take to heal the growing bruise would be time and patience. Suddenly an announcement went off in Sick Bay, "Doctor Stone, prepare for incoming traffic." Scotty made his way out of sick bay. Scotty saw several pairs of pointy ears headed his way in dark gray attire with children among them. He stepped aside out of their way. Several security officers were around them making sure they were being escorted and did not run away for their check up. Scotty grew alarmed. They couldn't be there right away. By his count, there appeared to be around forty to fifty Vulcans. Most of them were children ranging in height. He didn't see anyone in the group who appeared to be familiar. 

Scotty made his way to the captain's ready room. 

Someone had to check the poor lad. 

Scotty  finally made his way to the ready room after  passing other officers, taking several, and using the turbo lift that seemed tobe malfunctioning for no damn reason at all. The turbo lift technicians had told Scotty that they got the glitch out. The turbo lifts needed overnight repairs with skilled workers. Scotty had a rough idea of who should do it, namely him, and a woman named Jaylah. Jaylah was a fast paced being running through the engineering track. Spock was silent sitting down in his chair turned away from the desk.  He had known her for a few years now and here was as a lieutenant on the Enterprise. Jaylah would immensely enjoy the challenge that Scotty knew.  Finally, he entered the ready room with the ice bag pressed against the side of his head.

"Mr Spock?" Scotty asked. 

Spock turned away from the window back in the direction of the Scotsman with a raised eyebrow. 

"Mr Scott," Spock said. "What brings you here?"

Scotty stepped forward. 

"The survivors," Scotty said. "I saw them. And I was wonderin'. . . did you lose someone?"

Spock briefly closed his eyes then reopened them. 

"Is it to be expected," Spock said. He took out small balls then placed them onto the table.  "They were in the ejection pod." Scotty could see great pain in the Vulcan's eyes. A kind of ache that seemed to be unusual for him. Grief. It had been a long time since the scotsman and Spock had been face to face. "Did the doctor tell you where he was going?"

Scotty paled, lowering the ice bag.

"He said that he was goin' somewhere to help people," Scotty said.

It was definite. He was sure. The thought of it made his stomach twist up into knots. Leonard McCoy was dead.  And so was his companion Mallard. He recognized the balls. One with a sticker showing a Megamite from the Pokemon franchise. The others had remarkably the same sticker. He wanted to fall down and weep. His legs felt heavy beneath the Scottsman. He couldn't be gone. And Scotty helped the man get his death sentence. If a ejection pod was the only thing that arrived then it probably meant  what sent the pod was dead. And the ship with it. Spock bowed his head then looked toward the Scotsman. 

"Your concern is appreciated, Mr Scott," Spock said, his deep voice monotone.  "Today I lost my older brother.  .  ." He sighed. "I do not believe that Doctor  McCoy was a part of the vessel that left Hellgaurd."

"He is still there," Scotty said. 

"I believe so," Spock said. 

"I should have asked him where he was goin'," Scotty said.  Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Mr Scott, there is nothing you could have done to change the doctor's mind," Spock said. "When his decision is made . . .  there is no stopping him. And he would have lied of where his preferred destination had been." 

"I could have helped him if he asked," Scotty said. "He shouldn't be there alone. . .and ye should nae lost your brother."

"There are many things that should not have happened," Spock agreed. 

"Do you need some company?" Scotty asked. 

Spock shook his head.

"None is needed," Spock said. "I prefer privacy for the time being." 

"If that helps you grieve, Mr Spock," Scotty said, then he walked out of the ready room.

Spock felt a cold hand place itself on his shoulder. 

" _Tushah nash-veh k'du,_ " Spock heard Jim's voice as he felt sympathy.  It occurred to Spock.

Jim has, and always shall be, by Spock's side.


	9. Regain

It was mid-afternoon again, mere hours after the large group of Vulcan and Romulan party had been taken care of by the Stone and his staff. Stone was sure that there were other survivors that would be picked up. Stone had no idea just how right he might be while he was drinking hot chocolate in his office. Spock was uneasy. A gut feeling was screaming inside that he would not like what he was about to see. The Enterprise was parked behind a moon near the planet hellgaurd. That was easy. Too easy. Hikaru felt that way, too. They should have been spotted. The four security officers and Spock were preparing for the away mission. Xon entered the transporter room and the doors closed behind him.  
  
"Captain," Xon said.  
  
"Lieutenant," Spock said.  
  
"Star Fleet regulation states that the captain is not supposed to be on away missions and the landing party is to be headed by a first officer, second officer, and a team suitable for the situation," Xon said. "you would be best served on the bridge."  
  
"That is a logical argument with a reasonable regulation," Spock said. "but due to this mission being a violation in star fleet regulations. I will be part of it."

"How is this rescue mission a violation?" Xon asked, tilting his head.

Spock slid the phaser into the federation standard belt.

"You have a choice of continuing your career or ending it," Spock said.

Xon straightened his head.

"I am sorry, sir," Xon apologized. "rule breaking or no rule breaking . . . I have to follow this regulation."

Spock  nodded. 

"If that is what you wish," Spock said, then turned in the direction of the transporter pad. 

Hip'tip waved back at the Vulcan while standing on the transporter padd. Xon got the phaser and the federation issued standard belt  placing it around his waist and snapped the sides together. Alongside Hip'Tip stood Harrik, Pavel, and Richards the Hondurian. Pavel was the head of security and Spock reasoned it would give the Russian more experience in the field on a rescue mission. They had their hands locked behind their back. Spock joined the group shortly followed by Xon. 

"This is not going to be anything like a protest, Mr  Xon," Pavel warned Xon.

"I expect that, Mr Chekov," Xon said. 

"Ready to beam down, Captain?" Speller, the transport lieutenant on shift, asked. 

"Energize," Spock said. 

Speller raised the small bars up and within a gentle melody followed by a surge of blue light, the landing party vanished from the transporter padd. 


	10. Raftermath

The landing party appeared in what appeared to be the brig section of the facility. Spock looked over to see the shape of several figures laid on the floor inside the figures. One of the figures looked up, lacking a helmet, although dressed to be a Romulan officer. Spock almost tilted his head at the number of Romulans in the cell. He could see they were mostly women and some of them were men. The Romulan sighed, in relief. That was Bete. Her fellow crewmate, S'Chess, raised herself up looking in the direction that her friend was looking at. She had a sigh of relief falling back. 

They were most certainly not the Rapid Rescue Squad.

"Etek fi' t'du vla," Bete spoke in Vulcan, holding their hands up in the air. 

Exactly saying 'we on your side' could spare them from being returned to the Romulan Empire and facing the consequences of their actions. There were few remainders of their ties with Vulcans left in the underground Vulcan trade that lead some into the hands of Romulans. Not enough but just a few words. The doors opened to the brig letting in two lieutenants. The two Romulans stared back at first then started to take their disruptors out. Pavel and Hip'Tip fired first vaporizing the two officers. Xon came over to the console then lowered the shields to the electrical based brig. There were injured Romulans among the party.  Several other Romulans from outside started to come to. Spock made his way to the side of the door turning on his phaser. Pavel, Xon, and Harrik fired at the oncoming Romulans. Bete was the first one up  then joined on the firing back at her colleagues.  

The other Romulans retreated after firing back. Two Romulans were left with holes in their torsos strayed on the floor bleeding green blood from staring out into the open space forming a window toward the ceiling while slouched against the wall with a disruptor in their hands respectively. The sound of footsteps fleeing were becoming softer and softer. One of the dead Romulans had a hand covering the wound that was on the side of their waist. Their golden helmet There wasn't a stench of death coming but it would be coming around hours afterwards.  Richards realized her phaser had ran out of fuel. Richards dropped it with a hiss as she realized her hands were burning from clenching the phaser trigger in the wrong position tightly.

"Hey," Potax said, handing Richards a disruptor. "and you might want to get that treated---" Potax almost stopped seeing the appearance of the much taller woman. "You are a hondurian."

"Yes," Richards said, wary.

"You look gorgeous,"  Potax said. Richards felt her cheeks blush. "quite lovely."

"Mr Hip'Tip, make sure their injured are beamed over to the Enterprise," Spock said. 

"But Captain, they are Romulans," Hip'Tip said. "They are not friendly."

"Hey, asshole, we are now!" Lieutenant Locet shouted back. Locet had a patched right eye and a hook for a left hand. Spock sent a withering glare in the direction of Hip'Tip. 

"That is not a request," Spock said. "it is a order." 

"Yes, sir," Hip'Tip said.

"Those who are not injured will join us," Spock announced, turning toward the two dozen Romulans. At first glance, there were ten Romulans who were not hurt while the others had injuries that could be repaired. "and it would be vital if one of you knew where the survivors are."

S'Chess turned toward the captain.

"We were ordered to kill the colonists," S'Chess said. "But not the officer you are here for"

"But we don't know if the other one is still alive," Potax said.

"He might still be alive," Bete said.

"Captain," Xon said. "the possibility of his demise is sixty-eight point thirty-seven percent."

"I am aware," Spock said. "and I disregard it." He turned toward the Romulans. "Which of you knows the way?"

"I do, sir," Potax said. "you are going to need disruptors to replace the empty phasers."

"That is  unfortunate," Spock said, placing the phaser onto the console.

Bete came back with two phasers then handed one of them to Xon while Loket handed their disruptor to the captain. Pavel had a bad feeling about trusting Romulans. Because no one knows if one would go behind their back. But these didn't seem too friendly but only helpful. It was always good to have some suspicion up. Pavel replaced his standard issued star fleet phaser with a disruptor that had a stiff, bumpy handle. His phaser was placed onto the console. How many Romulans did they kill? How many were stationed here? Hip'tip and a group of Romulans vanished in a haze of light leaving the non-injured  Romulans behind.

"What is your name?" Spock said.

"Potax," Potax said. "But my full name, you cannot say."

"We have that in common," Spock said. "Lead the way, Miss Potax."

The group walked out of the brig based room.

* * *

The doors opened into the dark room. Disruptor firing was exchanged knocking down a few Romulans killing them instantly with fetal blows to the chest. Light poured into the room that what was left of the rescue team walked into. The floor was dark gray with pools of green blood spreading. They were in a dark room with a stained chair in the middle that had binds on the arm rests. There was a Romulan officer with a shoulder injury pressed against the wall to the left hand side of the room. Richards had her hand bandaged up by a long yellow, soft fabric. There was a pool of light above the dark gray, barren and uncomfortable appealing chair. Xon scanned the stained part of the arm rests. There was fabric left behind on the chair that once belonged to a Romulan outfit sticking from the back rest crevices.

"Dried blood," Xon said. All eyes turned in the direction of the Romulan officer. "This is unusual."

"How so?" Spock asked.

"It is Romulan blood," Xon said. "Doctor McCoy is human. . . I do not see any reason why not."

"I swear!" Potax said, stepping back. "he is supposed to be there."

"Where would they take him?" Spock asked.

"Istak probably decided to do more with him," Bete said.

"That is logical with a incompetent commander," Xon said, earning a head turn from Spock. "I studied the stories regarding star fleet officers being captured by Romulans after your first encounter with them."

"Romulans?" Spock said, in disbelief. "Abducting Star Fleet officers?"

"Indeed," Xon said. "There are two types of Romulans: the reasonable and the unreasonable. Reasonable are very intelligent, yet cunning Romulans who get a deal strike and give the prisoners back intact . . . . at least partially."

Spock paused.

"Oh," Bete said. "he . ." Bete shared a look with Potax, of horror.

". . . I can't believe it," Potax said. "he genetically altered himself."

"No wonder he had pointy ears," Bete said.

"That is illogical," Spock said. "Doctor McCoy would never do that."

"He called himself Doctor T'Hinek," Fei said, with a cough, earning a turn from the rescue team in his general direction. "I don't suppose you told him what that means," Pavel and Harrik approached the slouched Romulan and together the two lifted him up to his feet. "Ah!" The back of his head met the wall as he shouted. His eyes winced. "You make terrible lifters."

“Shut up,” Harrik said.

"You make a terrible aim," Pavel said.

Spock stepped forward.

"Where has the doctor been moved to?" Spock asked.

"Like I am telling you," Fei said.

Spock turned toward the two Romulan women then stepped aside.

"Fei," Potax said, coming forward. "Half of your friends are gone. Including your brother."

"It is a terrible way of ending this nonsense," Bete said. "because then they'll really turn into the Rapid Rescue Squad. And you'll be dead. No war,” Bete stepped forward even closer toward Fei. “Just you by a dishonorable death."

"But a logical death," Spock added.

Fei gulped.

* * *

Istak opted to wait for the captain of the starship. She decided to wait for him in the room where the doctor was held. Or at least they claimed that he was a legitimate doctor. She pressed a button hearing the sound of bone cracking. A faint, painful groan emit from the body with hands clenched. She couldn't believe what the traitors of the empire had told her. For all she knew, he was a fraud and a spy sent from star fleet to thwart their plans His cheeks were stained in tears while covered in burn marks and cuts along his face. His hands were bound to the table thanks to electrical installed stasis cuffs. His hands were nearly flattened but his phalanges moved despite the inconvenience. Romulans were astonishing under pressure and he wasn't a Romulan. Whatever he used to be, his body refused to give up moving. He could be formerly a Deltan.

Istak heard the sounds of distruptors being fired.

She carefully took out her disruptor.

Her men would come in and tell that the problem was neutralized in a few minutes.

The next task would be destroying the ship in orbit.

Perfect trap.

Luring a away team down surrounded by Romulans while consisting likely of the command team. It was highly likely, because captains tended to be hands on when it came to rescuing a member of their own. It was part of the stories about the Rapid Rescue Squad, Her eyes glanced over to the fraud with swollen eyes. What did he used to be? A engineer? A nurse? A security officer? But not a doctor. Because that would be too absurd that a prized physician would go into Romulan territory, willingly, just to save the lives of colonists. She played with her phaser alongside his foot that had long stopped bleeding. Toes nearly dangling off. She heard the weak fraud mutter a name.

"Jim. . ."

There had to be many people in Star Fleet who went by the name Jim.

"I love ya."

And it was likely that this 'Jim' was part of the rescue team.

"Jim is dead," Istak said.

What was it that drew people here to face their doom? Or their untimely demise. She had already terminated the life of several Vulcans-who-claimed-to-be-Romulans only here to see their relatives. She may have exterminated families with this. Perhaps the Praetor would understand her side of the story. He always did understand when it came to scenarios like ones that she justified. The empire ran on fear, practically, at least that is what she believed. The doors slowly slid open to reveal a group of figures but none of them had the head shape of a helmet. Some of them were short and a few were tall.

Spock stepped forward.

"Captain Spock of the USS Enterprise," Spock said. "Commander Istak, I highly recommend you surrender."

O----That is when it became perfectly clear. Spock, and James Tiberius Kirk were legends in the empire for thwarting. Captain Kirk was dead and she was facing the fine, clear logic of a Vulcan. Erroneous logic, that is. She heard that the captain had died due to being left behind by his command officers. Rumors went that if one cornered Spock with the lives of a village over his own, he would consider his own rather than their lives if there were a asteroid headed in the direction of the planet.

So be it.

She was not entirely sure that this man was part of the triumvirate: McCoy, Spock, and Kirk.

Because who would be that stupid to come here?

"No," Istak said. "I recommend you do that. I have the advantage."

"You have clearly lost your mind," Spock said. 

"No, I have not," Istak said.

"One, you are surrounded," Spock said. "two, what is left of your command is with us. Three, you are alone and holding a former star fleet officer hostage." He turned his head in the direction of Xon. "Mr Xon, what is the new regulations regarding that?"

"Penal colony for at least twelve years, three months, and thirty-two days," Xon said.

"I heard Romulans are not treated lightly," Spock said.

"I am not part of your agency," Istak raised her gun up

"True," Xon said. "but I am pretty sure the Preator wouldn't want a war to start by a compromised commander."

"And the praetor will gladly hand you over," Spock said. "you recall Dion Charvanek? His daughter will sway him. No matter who sponsors you, you will have to face the consequences of your actions."

Spock stepped aside dodging the distruptor blast. Pavel pressed the trigger firing back landing a shot into the woman's shoulder. Potax and the others fired back landing shots into her torso. If she had been intelligent she would have given them the doctor and surrendered to the rescue team. Leniency, at most. Blood came from the corner of her mouth as her grip on the disruptor slackened. She fell down landing on the ground with eyes hauntingly remaining open. Spock looked over to see that Pocet laid on the ground behind him dying in a pool of his blood. Spock had a apologetic expression on his face at first then turned away as other Romulans surrounded the passing. Spock walked around the woman's body then came to see the doctor had messy hair. His chest moving up and down, breathing, painfully. Spock could identify several injuries on the man's chest.

"Doctor?" Pavel said, feeling like a child again coming to the man's side.

There was a groan.

"You are going to be okay, Len," Pavel said. "we got the best in the fleet."

"Xon to Enterprise," Xon said, as Spock was  feeling overwhelmed himself looking down in the direction of the human. 

"Enterprise here," Hikaru was in the captain's chair.

Spock didn't hear what Xon said as he placed a hand on the parts of the doctor's face that were not cuts or bruised. Carefully, but gently. The mind meld was initiated between the two, but he saw  a familiar face and familiar hazel eyes looking back at him. They were eyes of sympathy. He could feel that one of Jim's hands were placed on the side of the doctors cheek. A smile on the man's face. Instead of feeling pain and anguish from the doctor, all the Vulcan felt was content. Smooth, light happy feelings. Not a care in the world could make him otherwise. He confirmed the doctor's identity in the meld but his neural networks were damaged by several accounts and a skilled healer would be needed to ease the repair process. He didn't know on the bridge, Uhura turned from her station. Silence filling the bridge except for the sounds of the stations. Hikaru looking over toward Uhura sharing the same feelings. He didn't know  Scotty was on the bridge  talking with Lieutenant Audri when he heard the news. Hope and a feeling of dread. Spock let go of the side of the man's face withdrawing his hand.

"Mr Xon," Spock said.

"Yes, captain?" Xon said.

"The cuffs must come off first before he is beamed up," Spock said.

"Understood," Xon said.

A part of Spock hoped that McCoy wouldn't remember what hell he went through. Together they tore the binds off with metallic sounds falling. Seeing the complete damage that had been done to his ankles and wrists. Seeing what horror by first hand what had been done to the human. Pavel walked away feeling sick to his stomach. Eventually, the group vanished in a haze of blue light.

* * *

The patient rested on the biobed appearing to be at peace. Stone felt disturbed as he rubbed his chin. The man nearly flatlined on him. He nearly lost the legendary doctor on his watch. But the odd part was that he had green skin, pointy ears, and a v shaped forehead. The man's beard had been shaved off during surgery. He had one hand under his elbow staring at the success story. It still bothered him that he almost lost McCoy.  He felt sick to his stomach. His nurses were excused after the surgery to recuperate from what they had seen. He had issued a 'no-visit' order for the doctor as he needed rest to regain his strength.

Ilia entered the private quarters.

"How is the patient?" Ilia asked, her hands tightly behind her back. She was in the golden variation of the jacket with a black skirt.

"He is fine. . ." Stone said. He looked over toward Ilia. "but I can't talk to you with what I found."

"I am first officer,"  Ilia said.

"That, you are," Stone said. "but honestly. . . Mr Spock should be handling this."

"He turned himself in," Ilia said.

"Listen," Stone said. "you don't want to see it."

"Why?" Ilia said.

"I am afraid what you will see will make you puke and run out like a ordinary person," Stone said.

"I will not," Ilia said.

"Have you ever stepped foot into space?" Stone said.

"Yes," Ilia said.

"No, I am serious," Stone said. "have you stepped foot into space and seen someone so unkept and so wild that they don't seem human?"

"No," Ilia said. "but I need to see."

"You are first officer," Stone said.

"Indeed," Ilia said.

"Just because you are first officer doesn't mean you are ready to see everything.  This. . ." Stone shuddered. "I am afraid you are not ready to see that." He glanced over toward the doctor. "He did something no one would have dared to do. And he saved lives," Stone turned his direction toward the woman. "you want to see how unwell they must be? Do you want to be attacked likely by someone who doesn't know you? Do you really want to see the worse of Vulcanian and Romulan when not taken care well?"

"Yes," Ilia said.

"Are you sure about this?"  Stone asked.

"Positive,"  Ilia said.

"Come with me," Stone said. "I don't care if this court martial business means staying in the brig until we reach a nearby space station or star base but this is serious business. I think they will trust Vulcans more than Deltans."

"They will have to trust me," Ilia said.

"I am not sure about that," Stone said.

"They will," Ilia said.

"Okay," Stone said.

The two went out of the private quarters then down the hall. There wasn't a sign of life to be seen except for them.  They came into the waiting  room that had been turned a empty room except for a small box on a ledge like shelf on the side. The human looked toward the woman, concerned, on how this might fair out for her. Usually, he wouldn't be afraid of how others saw nasty things. But  this was nasty. He would be afraid for men and women alike to stare into the face of horror and disgust. He raised a brow earning a nod from the Deltan. He pressed all the balls at once then tossed them into the air sending out jets of red energy. Saavik was the first to appear sitting down curled with her hands around her legs. Valeris had boggled, terrified eyes. There were other Romulan and Vulcan individuals who had not been cleaned in what seemed to be a long time. Stone heard the woman turn around then walk away leaving the scene. The transparent doors closed behind her.

"T'Hinek?" came the female, at the center, of the group.  Her eyes full of concern.

"My name is Doctor Stone," Stone said. "I am here to help you get better. He is perfectly safe and sound, recovering, in a individual room of his own." He gestured over to a pile of blankets and pillows that were neatly organized. "Until the current acting captain returns, we will be arranging you each to have showers then you will be fed in the mess hall. Afterwards, you will be kept together until the return to Starbase 1. Do any of you understand that?" There were a few nods. "the next time you see Romulans, they are not going to harm you, and Vulcans have some sanctuary for defecting Romulans." They nodded even more. "you will find that we don't let people die on our watch."

He could only imagine how painful it must be for the doctor to have seen the colonists on the morgue table. Just to see them not animated or alive. Not moving or breathing. Some of them were huddled in groups of their own. Saavik's eyes were stuck on the human. Stone walked away. What remained of the colonists went over grabbing the blankets in a organized line. Valeris returned with a large blanket and two pillows.  The last time that Saavik had see McCoy was the man sharing a smile back at her, reassuring her, that everything was going to be all right. He promised that he would be the first person that she would see as soon as she woke up.

He broke his promise.

**The End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I didn't get Spones together.
> 
> Surak damn it. 
> 
> I'll have to make a sequel to resolve this. 
> 
>  
> 
> _McCoy tried, too._


End file.
